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    True Crime

    Scene Of the Crime

    True Crime Podcast

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    Latest Episodes:
    Requiem for Mia Zapata Dec 31, 2020
    Show notes

    It was once described as one of Seattle’s oldest, diviest bars, famous for its loud stage pungent bathroom and ceiling of nicotine-stained dollar bills.


    For over 50-years, The Comet Tavern was a second home for Seattle musicians, the red neon sign over the front door welcoming them in out of the rain.


    In the ground floor of a century-old three-story brick building, the façade was painted a deep black. The bar always had some no-name local craft beers on tap, the perfect drink for those starving artists.


    Nestled in between Capitol Hill and the Central District, the neighborhood might’ve been a little seedy, but in the 90’s it was Ground Zero for Seattle’s grunge scene.


    The Comet was just a block away from where you’ll now find a tribute to Jimmy Hendrix. A life-size bronze sculpture of the guitar legend living out his finest moment, guitar in hand, head flung back, on his knees in ecstasy. The look on his face reminiscent of another Seattle rocker who was also gone too soon.


    Mia Zapata had grown up in the Midwest. She was a musician to the core. A little shy, a little goofy, but when she hit the stage as the lead singer for the Gits, she would come alive. Mia’s passion was palpable as she belted out lyrics with her soulful growl.


    The band developed a reputation for intense, fiery performances that would pack the clubs in Seattle, and up and down the West Coast.


    They had just wrapped up one of those West Coast tours, when they hit the Comet on a Tuesday evening in July, 1993. They were celebrating. Not only did their latest performances get rave reviews, but they’d just been made an offer by Atlantic Records.


    Their future never looked brighter.


    Mia stumbled out of the Comet that night, after more than a few of those craft brews, with a smile on her face, listening to the music coming from her Walkman cassette player.


    With no cab in sight, she set off walking instead. It was a little over a mile to her house, but it was a warm July evening and she had plenty of excitement to work off, anyway.


    I can just picture Mia, in her ratty jeans, hands in her pockets, her favorite Gits hoodie keeping off the cool breeze coming in off the water. Her choppy brown hair hanging loosely, brushing the tops of her shoulders.


    I bet she was singing as she walked along that night... imagining the next time she would be on stage…


    But, there wouldn’t be a next time. Just one hour later, Mia’s body would be found dumped in the street. She’d been sexually assaulted, beaten, and strangled. The cord of her Gits hoodie used to steal her life.


    She was just 27 years old, the same age Jimi Hendrix was when he died. And Janis Joplin, and Jim Morrison. It was exactly the kind of company Mia deserved to be in, but for exactly the wrong reason.


    The monstrous attack and the decade-long search for the killer would change the Seattle music scene forever.


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    The Unthinkable Dec 24, 2020
    Show notes

    It was the 80's, 1983 to be exact a time, a time infamous for both excess and innocence in America.


    A time when kids were riding their bikes in packs until the streetlamps came on. Moms were in the workforce like never before. A time when a lunch for most kids was Wonderbread, Skippy Peanut Butter and grape jelly. Michael Jackson, Madonna and Cindy Lauper ruled the airwaves. It was an age where anything seemed possible.


    But, there was a dark side to the progress and prosperity: a sort of throw away culture where things were easily replaced. Some say, for Diane Downs that included her own children.


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    Deepish Thoughts: The Gift Dec 19, 2020
    Show notes

    True Crime can teach us so much about human nature, including how some people use gifting as a weapon. (Just listen to our recent episode, The Gold Digger.) In this Deepish Thoughts, Carolyn Ossorio and Kim Shepard talk about what gifting means to them and how they protect themselves from the dangerous strings that can sometimes be attached.


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    The Drifter Dec 10, 2020
    Show notes

    Sitting under an old oak tree on a breezy spring day, in an out of the way corner of a park in Brownsville, Texas, he strums away on a guitar that looks nearly as old as he is.


    With a gaunt face, scruffy, grey beard and a cigarette hanging loosely on his lips, he sings about the hardships of life and the kindness of strangers.


    His black fedora, rolled coat sleeves and leather bracelets give the impression of a washed-up D-list rock star trying to hold on to his better days.


    But, there are no bright lights in this drifter’s dark back story.


    In the 80’s, Jeffrey Cutlip spent ten years behind bars for a violent Oregon burglary and sexual assault. He was out for just seven months before he robbed two people at gunpoint in 1993 and was sent back for another six-year term.


    When he was released for the second time, Cutlip decided to take his show on the road, heading to sunny New Mexico.


    For three years he let his wanderlust run wild and managed to duck the requirements that he register as a sex offender, until he could hide no longer. In 2004, his disability payments were cut-off, so he snuck back into Oregon to get them reinstated. But first, he would have to face the music for his wandering ways.


    Cutlip told the parole board he wanted to live a quiet life and he tried to be good, but there were just too many rules he had to follow. Rules set by the state. Rules set by the shelter where he was living.


    He just wanted to be free to spread his music.


    But, that would have to wait. Cutlip was sent back for another 4 months behind bars.


    And, once he was released, he was gone again.


    Until, July of 2012, when he called 911 to turn himself in for horrible crimes he had committed decades earlier.


    He had already done the time for the robbery, burglary and sexual assault.


    Could this simply be the ramblings of an aging imagination?


    Or was there something more sinister on the mind of this mild-mannered drifter?


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    Fallen Angels Dec 03, 2020
    Show notes

    Bremerton is a Navy town. The base and Naval Shipyard have made a home there on the Kitsap Peninsula.


    In East Bremerton, there’s a tidy duplex, tucked at the end of a cul de sac on Magnolia Boulevard, the kind of block where you're friendly with your neighbors.


    And there is a woman who lived there in January of 1986. Her name was Helene, but everyone called her Nikki.


    Nikki was raising her two children in that duplex: her precious little girl, 4 year old Adrienne, and Marcus, her 6 month old little boy.


    To make ends meet, Nikki had been working as a cook at an Arby’s fast food restaurant. But that chapter in her life was winding down. In fact, that last week of January Nikki was embarking on a new chapter. The following week she was moving to California to be with the father of Marcus, her fiancé, who was stationed in San Diego.


    Even with all the hustle and bustle of an imminent move, Wednesday night, January 29th, for all intents and purposes was much like any other.


    Adrienne’s father, Kenny, had come to visit his daughter after work as he often did. Even though Kenny and Nikki were no longer a couple, they still had a really good relationship.


    So many things now haunt Kenny about that night, the last time he would see his daughter alive.


    When Kenny came back the following day, not only would he find the body of his beautiful, sweet little girl, but the body of Nikki as well. The only one to survive the night was baby Marcus, who had likely witnessed the murder of his mother and sister.


    It’s been 35 years and even though the investigation is in the hands of a cold case detective, this case isn’t cold. In fact, many believe this case is solvable.


    They have suspects and they have a DNA profile that could, but what the case really needs is someone to come forward. Someone with a tip. That one missing puzzle piece that will at long last complete the picture of the person or persons responsible for this heinous crime…and possibly bring a measure of peace to a grieving father.


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    Massacre at Erland's Point Nov 26, 2020
    Show notes

    The cast of characters read like an old version of Clue and the mystery of Who Done It? was just as intriguing.


    Not just one, but six people murdered in a waterfront cottage on the tip of Erland’s Point in the spring of 1934. The wealthy community was just about six miles outside Bremerton, but it was a world apart.


    While the port town of Bremerton was always busy and bustling with ships and cargo constantly churning in and out of the harbor and people coming and going all hours of the day and night.


    The hamlet of Erland’s Point was a haven from the noise, An easy getaway where the well-to-do could just do nothing. A place where the well-heeled could kick off their shoes and not worry about who might be watching.


    It was both close to home and out of the way. The perfect place for murder.


    The Scene of the Crime was laid out like a game board.


    The bodies were strewn all around the cottage: at a card table in the game room, by the fireplace in the entryway, in repose in a bedroom. Violence had erupted in nearly every room in the house.


    And the victims seemed just as random.


    A wealthy grocer and the older woman he married.


    A vaudeville actress and her prize-fighter husband.


    A retired Navy machinist and a Bremerton bartender.


    As for the murder weapon, was it the revolver? Or the hammer? Or the rope found at the scene?


    And who was behind this massacre?


    It was more than the local police could handle. More than even the county sheriff could take on. So, they called in the man who would come to be known as America’s Sherlock Holmes.


    And that’s just the tip of the iceberg in this case of life imitating art, history repeating itself, and a bizarre love triangle driving it all.


    In the end, one killer would walk and one would get the noose.


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    The I5 Killer Nov 19, 2020
    Show notes

    The roar of the crowd was like music to Randall Woodfield’s ears. Those Friday Night Lights fueled his ego as he caught the football mid air. And then, his magnus opus. He pumped his legs toward the promise land: Portland State University’s end zone.


    It was the moment he lived for, when all eyes were on Randy.


    Touchdown!

    The year was 1974 and it wasn’t long before NFL talent scouts would come to watch Randy on the field.


    The scout would gush that Randy was quite a jumper and he could cut on a dime.


    Randy’s coach agreed, but would point out what he considered a glaring deficiency: Randy avoided getting hit. He didn’t like to feel pain.

    There was something else about Randy that the scout wasn’t aware of. Later, a detective in Wisconsin would say, “Randy, just couldn’t keep it in his pants.”


    He was referring to Randy's multiple arrests for indecent exposure. The incidents would ultimately lead to Woodfield’s being cut from the Green Bay Packers, without even playing a single game.


    Looking back, that rejection could have been the tipping point where Randy’s obsession with exposing himself to women took an evil turn.


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    Peace, Love and Poison Nov 12, 2020
    Show notes

    Like a lucky horseshoe, The Dalles runs along a bend on the south side of the Columbia River. In the 80’s the sleepy little town had just a few thousand people, but it was still the largest community in rural Wasco County.


    Fishing and farming were popular activities in this beautiful part of north central Oregon. And, once night fell, there was little more than a movie theatre and a Shakey’s Pizza to keep folks entertained.


    One Sunday night in 1984, the owner of that pizza place was getting ready to call it a day when he suddenly doubled over in pain. Wracked with stomach cramps, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea, Dave Lutgens would later recall it was the worst he’d ever felt in his life. His wife soon became ill as well, and the couple decided it was time to go to the hospital.


    What they saw there was shocking. The waiting room was full of people, similarly doubled over in pain. They were lining the hallways, and there were patients in every exam room. Nurses, doctors and other hospital staff rushing around trying to make more space as the ill continued streaming through the doors.


    Within the next week, nearly half of the Shakey’s 28 employees and dozens of their customers all came down with the same kinds of complaints.


    Dave began to worry. How did it happen? Could it have been something in the salad bar that was so popular with the Shakey’s crowd? Or maybe an employee who wasn’t diligent about their hygiene?


    The local health department started asking questions as well, as the number of ill continued to climb. 100 cases. Then 200. And they discovered that some of the patients hadn’t eaten at Shakey’s at all, but at a different restaurant in town.


    A pathologist identified the problem as Salmonella, a common bacteria that can contaminate food. But, there was nothing common about how this outbreak was spreading. In the end more than 700 people would fall ill in less than one month.


    And, it wasn’t just one or two restaurants involved, but nearly a dozen all across The Dalles and the surrounding area. Most of those who fell ill reported eating at salad bars.


    The county ordered all salad bars shut down and they called in the CDC. Health Investigators spoke with patients and their families, inspected restaurants and suppliers, tested the water supply and soil samples.


    Salmonella was found in coffee creamer at one restaurant and in the blue cheese salad dressing in another. But, the question remained: How did it get there?


    The CDC decided it was a case of poor hygiene. Someone who didn’t wash their hands after using the bathroom must’ve touched the items on the salad bar. It seemed far fetched given how many restaurants were involved, but they simply couldn’t see any other possible explanation.


    Nearby, in the tiny town of Antelope, they had a different theory. They pointed to a mysterious religious leader from India and his thousands of followers who had built a massive commune that they claimed promoted a kind of spiritual rebirth.


    It was hard to fathom that this mild-mannered messiah could have been behind such a violent attack. But, in the end, even the great Bhagwan himself pointed the finger at a member of his flock, his second in command and personal secretary Ma Anand Sheela.


    But was Sheela behind the poisonings, or was it done on the Bhagwan’s orders? Why would this group of free-loving farmers, practitioners of meditation, pursuers of spiritual awakening target their small-town neighbors in what had become the largest bioterrism attack in the nation’s history?


    And why did it take the F-B-I nearly a year to figure it all out?


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    The Gold Digger Nov 05, 2020
    Show notes

    Out in the field the big, heavy duty machinery revs up. A lone farmer sits inside the cockpit of this gigantic tractor. A puff of smoke trails out of the little exhaust pipe as the earth begins to churn beneath the steel blades. Nothing but time and the big blue sky as the tractor makes its way slowly across thousands of acres on the Arkansas farm.


    In the distance there’s one of those open air canopies made of steel that housed tools of the farmer’s trade. Not just one tractor, but two, and there was a combine too.


    So much heavy duty, expensive equipment all lined up like a little boys toys. You might be thinking that the farmer had been working the land with his family for generations, long enough to scrape together the kind of seed money required to purchase these top shelf items. But, this isn’t that kind of story.


    All of that equipment, even some of the land, was paid for by a gold digger by the name of Shae Sanger who had never worked an honest day in her life.


    Shea is the sister of this farmer and if there’s anything that runs through the generations of this family it isn’t working the land, but working people. All that expensive farm equipment was paid for by a lonely man named Norman Butler.


    Norman lived all the way across the country in Washington State. A 75 year old retired optometrist with no interest in farming, he’d been looking for love in all the wrong places.


    By the way, Shea Sanger is just one of the names this grifter has cultivated over the years in her quest to prey upon vulnerable men.

    At the root of this middle aged gold digger’s black heart was the insatiable need for her family’s approval.


    Will this woman get what’s coming to her?


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    Washed Away: The TikTok Suitcase Murders Oct 29, 2020
    Show notes

    Movie theaters and bowling alleys were closed Restaurants were offering takeout only. And nightlife was non-existent. The summer of 2020 has been cemented in our minds as a time of pandemic, fear, loneliness and never ending boredom.


    It's not surprising that it's also the time that a new app promising unexpected adventures right in your own neighborhood became wildly popular, especially with the younger crowd.


    One group of teens decided to explore Alkai beach, a typical Pacific coast town on the west side of Seattle. Small shops and mom and pop restaurants line the sidewalk that sits opposite a sandy beach along the Pacific ocean.


    It was a sunny day in June when the teens headed out looking for a random GPS coordinate not knowing what they might find. And, of course, they brought their cell phones with them to record their adventure.


    When they spotted a suitcase that had gotten stuck on a large pile of rocks, they wondered what was inside. As they got closer. the stench of the contents nearly made them turn around. But their curiosity got the better of them. They just had to open it to see what was inside.


    When they decided to call police, the cops thought it was a prank. They would soon learn, this was anything but a laughing matter. The remains of a young couple, dismembered and tossed away like trash. But who were they? And who was the monster who could have done such a thing?


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