On Tuesday evening, March 17, 2026, Michael Lee King, 54, was executed by lethal injection at Florida State Prison near Starke, closing the final chapter on a brutal crime that shocked Florida and led to sweeping reforms in emergency response systems nationwide. King was convicted of the 2008 kidnapping, rape, and murder of Denise Amber Lee, a 21-year-old mother of two from North Port, whose desperate 911 call and the subsequent failures of the dispatch system galvanized a movement for change.
Lee’s abduction unfolded in broad daylight on January 17, 2008, as she trimmed her two-year-old son Noah’s hair on the back porch of their home. According to the Denise Amber Foundation, founded by Lee’s husband Nathan, "she had no way of knowing that a predator was driving through her neighborhood, searching for a victim." King, an out-of-work plumber who had recently moved to Florida, spotted Lee and seized the opportunity. He broke into her home, abducted her at gunpoint, and left her two young sons—Noah and six-month-old Adam—inside.
After taking Lee to his own home and sexually assaulting her, King drove her out to a remote area. In an extraordinary act of courage, Lee managed to get hold of King’s cell phone while tied up in his vehicle and dialed 911. The harrowing call, which lasted over six minutes, captured Lee’s desperate pleas: "I just want to see my family. Please let me go," she sobbed, according to USA TODAY. The dispatcher, however, repeatedly asked for information Lee was unable to provide, sometimes responding with indifference or annoyance. At one point, the dispatcher even asked if the kidnapper could turn down the radio, seemingly unaware of the urgency and terror in Lee’s voice.
Tragically, Lee’s call was only one of several that day. Her husband Nathan, upon discovering the house locked with his wife missing but their children, purse, keys, and phone still inside, immediately called 911. Another crucial call came from Jane Kowalski, a witness who saw Lee struggling in the backseat of King’s green 1994 Chevrolet Camaro and heard her screams for help. Kowalski stayed on the line for nine minutes, providing real-time updates on the car’s location as police scoured the area. Yet, due to a series of miscommunications and errors among dispatchers, this critical information was never relayed to officers who were, heartbreakingly, just seconds away from the vehicle at one point.
By the time King was eventually pulled over by a state trooper—his car matching the description from Kowalski’s call—it was too late. Lee had been shot in the face and buried in a shallow grave. Investigators later found Lee’s hair and belongings in King’s vehicle and home. Rick Goff, Lee’s father and a 42-year law enforcement veteran, credited his daughter’s quick thinking for helping secure King’s conviction. "Denise put him where he’s at because she outsmarted him," Goff told WWSB. "She did everything in her power to save her life. But he chose to end it." Lee had hidden hair samples, her wedding ring, and handprints in King’s car—evidence that proved critical in court.
The aftermath of Lee’s murder sent shockwaves through the state and the nation. The glaring failures of the 911 system—multiple calls for help, none resulting in timely intervention—sparked public outrage and a demand for accountability. In 2010, Florida legislators passed the Denise Amber Lee Act, mandating enhanced training for 911 dispatchers. The law, championed by Lee’s family and the foundation they established, has since been credited with saving lives not just in Florida but in other states as well. As Goff noted, a dispatch center in Colorado recently used the act’s protocols to help prevent another tragedy. "I know there’s lives being saved every day because of it," he said.
On the day of the execution, members of Lee’s family gathered at the prison, all dressed in pink—Denise’s favorite color. Nathan Lee, her husband, told reporters, "Finally, it’s over. This chapter’s closed. It took a lot of people to make this day happen, and everything had to go perfectly." Their oldest son, Noah, now a young man, spoke briefly about the closure the execution brought. "It’s been a long time coming and I’m just happy to have this closure. I unfortunately didn’t get the opportunity to know her and be raised by her," he said.
King, for his part, offered no apology or request for forgiveness in his final moments. According to the Associated Press, his last words were nearly inaudible, but he referenced finding faith in prison: "Since finding Jesus in prison, I have tried to live as his disciple obeying the two great commandments: To love God with all my heart, my mind and all my being, and to love my neighbor—to include everyone—my family, Denise Lee’s family, everyone in the gallery," he said. Rick Goff was unmoved, stating, "If you can’t say something from your heart, don’t say it." He added in a previous interview with Gulf Coast News, "He’s going to burn in hell as he should do. That’s my feelings." Goff also noted that King had never reached out to the family and still denied any wrongdoing.
Florida’s execution of King was the fourth in the state this year and the 32nd under Governor Ron DeSantis. The state’s rapid pace of executions has drawn both support and criticism. In 2025, Florida accounted for 40% of all U.S. executions, carrying out 19, more than any other state. Florida law allows for death sentences on an 8-4 jury recommendation and even permits capital punishment for certain non-homicide offenses. The state also leads the nation in death row exonerations. During King’s execution, a Florida-based nonprofit held vigils outside the prison and around the state, advocating for alternatives to the death penalty. "When someone is sentenced to death in Florida, the sentencing order says, ‘we, the people of the state of Florida, sentence you to die.’ So this is something that every Floridian is a party to, whether or not we support it," a representative told WWSB.
For Lee’s family, the hope is that Denise’s legacy will continue to be one of change and hope. Nathan Lee now runs the Denise Amber Lee Foundation, traveling the country to tell his wife’s story and advocate for stronger 911 systems. "She mattered and she’s making a difference," Nathan told USA TODAY. "And that’s all you can do after this. Just hope that she didn’t die in vain."
As the sun set over Florida State Prison on Tuesday, the sense of closure was bittersweet for those who loved Denise Amber Lee. Her bravery in the face of unimaginable terror, and the reforms sparked by her tragic death, ensure that her story will not be forgotten.