Rocky marriage: US Coast Guard Chief Petty Officer Dennis Ott, is pictured with his bride, Phonthip Boonack, right, on their wedding day, long before her murder and his arrest  

More than two decades after their mother vanished and was later found under suspicious circumstances, two California sisters are fighting a battle they never asked for — a battle that restarted every time a parole notice arrived in the mail.

Tippy Dhaliwal was only 14, and her sister Jeanette Marine just 10, when their mother, 33-year-old Phonthip Ott, disappeared from their Sacramento home in May 1992. What began as a missing-person case quickly escalated into something far darker. A week later, a fisherman pulling in his line made a discovery that changed the girls’ lives forever: a large white nylon bag retrieved from the Sacramento River. Inside was their mother.

Investigators immediately zeroed in on one person — Phonthip’s husband, Dennis Ott, a U.S. Coast Guard Chief Petty Officer. Their marriage, described by relatives as turbulent, had been marked by arguments and emotional tension. In the days leading up to her disappearance, Phonthip had taken steps to protect herself: she had filed a restraining order and served Ott with divorce papers.

Despite the lack of physical evidence such as fingerprints or DNA, prosecutors built a strong circumstantial case: the bag matched those used in the Coast Guard, and investigators found concrete shapes in Ott’s backyard that resembled the material discovered with the bag. Multiple witnesses testified that the couple’s conflicts had become increasingly alarming. In 1995, Ott was convicted of murder and sentenced to 25 years to life.

But the story didn’t end there.

For the last two decades, Tippy and Jeanette have attended every single parole hearing, refusing to let their mother’s memory fade into paperwork. Each hearing forced them to relive their childhood trauma — the fear, the confusion, the silence in the house the night their mother didn’t come home. And each hearing was a reminder that the man convicted of taking their mother’s life could someday walk free.

Sisters' battle: Phonthip's grown daughters, Jeanette Marine (left) and Tippy Dhaliwal (right), are now fighting to keep their stepfather from getting out of prison on parole 

“Why can’t he just stay there?” Tippy said. “Where are the rights of our mom? She doesn’t have any.”

Jeanette echoed her pain. “We’re still being affected, even though he’s the one behind bars.”

From prison, Ott has consistently maintained his innocence. Through phone interviews, he insists he poses no threat to society and points to his clean record behind bars, where he earned college degrees and avoided disciplinary issues. But prosecutors — and the sisters — argue that good behavior in prison doesn’t erase the past, nor does it repair the damage done.

Sutter County District Attorney Amanda Hopper, who represented the sisters at Ott’s latest parole hearing, said she believed he showed no genuine accountability and remained a risk.

At the September 2015 hearing, after five hours of emotional testimony, the parole board rejected Ott’s request for release. The sisters felt momentary relief, but they knew it was temporary — another hearing would always come.

Dennis Ott was arrested two years after his wife's body was found in the Sacramento River

“He deserves to remain there,” Jeanette said. “He took everything from us. Everything.”

But while fighting for justice, the sisters were hit with another devastating battle. In 2015, Tippy was diagnosed with lung cancer, and the disease later spread. Jeanette, holding back tears, said, “She has to get through this. I can’t lose her. She’s all I have left.”

Ott’s next parole hearing was scheduled for October 2017, meaning the cycle of reliving their past would continue — unless the board agrees that he should never walk free again.

For Tippy and Jeanette, the fight is not only about punishment. It’s about protecting their families, honoring their mother’s memory, and making sure her story — and their pain — is never dismissed as just another case number.

Phonthip was 33 years old when she was killed, possibly by strangulation, and tossed in the river, leaving behind two daughters 

To them, justice means ensuring their mother’s voice is still heard.
And that the man convicted of silencing her never gets the chance to walk into the world she left behind.

Denied: In September 2015, Ott's latest parole bid was rejected after a five-hour hearing