LA JOLLA, Calif. — A day after a jury recommended David Westerfield be put to death for the murder of Danielle van Dam, her parents broke six months of public silence to thank the panel for their verdict.

"The only way we can possibly give back to you is to ask our angel Danielle to watch over you and your families," said Brenda van Dam Tuesday morning at a press conference in the beachfront park where her 7-year-old daughter once played.

Flanked by her husband Damon, the 39-year-old housewife said the family had survived the seven months since her daughter was murdered largely because of the support of the community and the promise of justice for her assailant.

"We were relieved and happy with the guilty verdict. We feel that the justice system revealed the truth and Danielle's murderer has been held accountable," said Brenda van Dam, who like her husband wore a button with the words "In Loving Memory" printed over Danielle's photo. "That was our hope — that Danielle's death would not go unanswered."

The van Dams spent nearly every day of the four-month trial in the courtroom. Both parents took the stand twice, once in the guilt phase, when they recalled the disappearance of their only daughter from their home last February, and once in the penalty phase, when they told jurors how Danielle's murder had shattered their lives and those of their two young sons, Derek and Dylan.

David Westerfield listens as his fate is unsealed Monday.

But when not testifying, the van Dams, like all key players in the trial, were under a sweeping gag order issued by Judge William Mudd. They could communicate only in gasps, tears and grimaces. After the six-man, six-woman panel issued their decision Monday afternoon, the judge lifted the order, but the van Dams decided not to speak at the courthouse as prosecutors, the defense lawyers and some jurors did.

Brenda van Dam said Tuesday that it had been a conscious choice.

"We delayed making a public statement because we wanted to put yesterday behind us, and to start a new day, at one of Danielle's favorite places," she said, standing on the emerald green lawn of La Jolla Shores. The family held Danielle's memorial service in the park last March.

The environment stood in stark contrast to the formality and drabness of Mudd's courtroom. As the van Dams spoke under a bright sun and a periwinkle sky, surfers on yellow and red boards bobbed in gentle waves and toddlers shrieked happily through a nearby playground.

"We spent a lot of time here as a family," said Brenda van Dam. "So on this day, we remember Danielle fondly in her happy place."

The van Dams are the most discussed couple in San Diego, where the trial dominated headlines and local television reports. During the course of the investigation, they revealed that they were swingers who engaged in partner-swapping with other couples on occasion.

The revelation caused a scandal and became a key part of the unsuccessful defense strategy to suggest that one of their acquaintances could have killed Danielle. One juror who spoke publicly Monday, however, called the hubbub around the couple's sex life "silly" and said it had nothing to do with the crime.

"It was difficult to actually answer all those questions," said Brenda van Dam of the defense's cross-examination about group sex and "adult parties." "But we knew in our hearts it wasn't relevant."

Damon van Dam, a 36-year-old software engineer, was booted from the courtroom during the trial for posing what court officers termed a "security risk."

He said Tuesday that the officers had misread his intentions when he stood in clear view of Westerfield as he was moved between the jail and the courtroom.

"I did nothing other than let him know I was there," said Damon van Dam.

Brenda van Dam, who wept often in court as the details of her daughter's murder were presented to the jury, was composed as she spoke to the bank of two dozen cameras. She faltered only once as she recalled the moments leading up to the jury's death verdict.

"As far as the sentencing decision, we were prepared to accept either decision because what mattered most was knowing this monster could never hurt another child," she said, her voice catching in her throat as she referred to Westerfield.

Of the man who killed Danielle, a 50-year-old design engineer who lived two doors from the family's house in the upscale suburb of Sabre Springs, she said she had only one question.

"I would ask him why," she said. She paused for a moment before correcting herself, "I don't know if I'd want to hear his answer. I don't want to hear his voice."

If his sentence survives federal and state appeals, Westerfield's execution is likely a dozen years if not decades away. Asked if she would attend his death by lethal injection, however, Brenda van Dam said, "I don't think I could be there."

Damon van Dam said he was not sure.

The van Dams said they knew nothing about a San Diego Union-Tribune report that Westerfield was on the verge of striking a plea deal with prosecutors when searchers found Danielle's body. The paper quoted unidentified law enforcement sources who said Westerfield would have received a life sentence without parole in exchange for revealing the location of Danielle's body, a rural roadside 25 miles from the van Dam's home.

At the close of the press conference, the couple walked to their green SUV surrounded by a dozen cameras and reporters asking more questions. Their spokeswoman said they had no plans for vacation and would be returning to the life that now passes for normal.

"That family hasn't had a break from grieving since this happened," said District Attorney Paul Pfingst Monday. He pointed to the couch in his office where both Brenda and Damon had collapsed in sobs last February after learning police believed Danielle was dead. "They haven't had a break."

"They have missed out on the thing that most victim's families have: solitude," said Pfingst.