Not long before he killed himself and his in-laws in a murder-suicide, Oney Campiz called his father to say he was driving to his mother-in-law’s West-Miami Dade house to go work things out.

The father, also Oney Campiz, didn’t think it was a good idea and tried to persuade his son to turn back. When the younger Campiz refused, his father drove to the West Miami-Dade home, 1815 SW 70th Ave.

By the time the father arrived at the pale yellow house with the white security bars and lit porch light Tuesday evening, his son, along with Marta Kim-Jo and Leonardo Diaz, were all dead.

Oney Campiz, 34, was the shooter, Miami-Dade police said Wednesday.

"I came to this country to be with my son and now I’m left alone," the older Campiz, a Cuban immigrant, said as he sat in his son’s marble installation shop in Hialeah, bawling. Photographs of his smiling son with his own 2 two-year-old son covered the shop’s walls.

Ricardo Andarcio, who owns another marble installation place next door, said he has known the younger Campiz for nearly a decade.

"He’s a great father. He lives for that little boy," Andarcio said. “He didn’t talk about his personal problems. He was a very quiet person.”

On Wednesday morning, police were still investigating the events surrounding a dispute that ended with Oney Campiz fatally shooting Diaz, 55, and Kim-Jo, 59, before turning the gun on himself.

Five other people — two adults and three children — escaped from the home through a window with the help of arriving police officers. They were not injured, Miami-Dade police Detective Roy Rutland said.

One of the adults who escaped, Edelind Subarnaba, was the daughter of the two victims and Campiz’s girlfriend. She was also the mother of his 2-year-old son, who was not injured. Visibly torn up, she declined to speak Wednesday when she came to the house trying to get inside to retrieve documents.

A distraught woman visiting the house earlier, and describing Subarnaba as her “best friend,” said that Subarnaba had unsuccessfully tried to reach her the night of the shooting.

“Her husband [Campiz] is very jealous and obsessive,” said the woman, who declined to give her name. She added that Campiz used to tell Subarnaba, “If you don’t do what I say, I will kill you.”

Luz Marcela Pena, a friend of Kim-Jo, said on June 6 the two women visited and shared a cup of coffee. A worried Kim-Jo, she said, told her “things are not going well in the house.”

“She was talking very nervously,” said Pena, standing in front of her friend’s home. As she spoke, her phone rang. Subarnaba was on the other line.

“She is at a house with some friends. She’s scared,” Pena said.

Like others, Pena described Kim-Jo, a 59-year-old grandmother, as a quiet, reserved person.

“She was very good; she never had any problems with anybody,” Pena said.

The two had been friends, she said, for six years. They had both worked as trainers for Boston Scientific, a company that makes medical devices, before being laid off when the company relocated from Miami to Costa Rica in December.

“She was a fine lady and so was her husband,” said Martha Valverde, who moved into the couple’s studio apartment behind the home 15 days ago. She was on the phone Tuesday night, she said, when she heard gunshots. By the time she called 911, she was told by dispatch that someone from inside the house had already called.

“I took off running,” she said.

Miami Herald photojournalists Tim Chapman and Walt Michot and writer Meredith Rutland also contributed to this report.