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morbidology · 17 days

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25-year-old Mary Shotwell Little worked as a secretary in a bank in Atlanta, Georgia. In August of 1965, she married Roy Little, a bank examiner. Just six weeks after their wedding day, Roy left town on a training course. On the afternoon of 14 October, Mary went grocery shopping, and that evening, she went to the Lennox Square Shopping Center for dinner with a co-worker at the Picadilly Cafeteria.

At around 8PM, she left the Lennox Square Shopping Center to her parked car, but was never seen again....

When Mary didn’t show up for work, she was reported missing. Initially, the security guard at the shopping center said he couldn’t find her car. However, later when police arrived, her 1965 Mercury Comet was found in the car park where she had left it. A coating of red dust was covering the car’s exterior. It looked as if it had been driven along a dirt road.

A stocking that had been cut with a knife was found on the floor of the car along with underwear. Specks of blood were found on the undergarments as well as the steering wheel and the handle. It was determined it was Mary’s blood. Some police theorised that due to the small amount of blood, it had been staged. However, there was an unidentified fingerprint in blood on the steering wheel of the vehicle.

An investigation uncovered that Mary’s credit card had been used twice in North Carolina the day after she disappeared. Both times, petrol had been purchased. The workers recollected seeing a woman who appeared to have blood on her head and legs. They recalled her being with two middle-aged men who appeared to be directing her what to do and what to say.

Investigators also discovered that Mary’s license plate was a North Carolina one that had been stolen as opposed to her Georgia one. Police believed that somebody abducted Mary and then moved her car back to the same parking spot afterwards.

Over the years there have been many theories as to what became of Mary. One of the more peculiar theories was that her disappearance was connected to lesbian sex scandal that was occurring at her place of her employment. It was also revealed that Mary had received alarming phone calls in the run up to her disappearance. These calls came to her work and her colleagues heard her telling the caller she was now a married woman that could no longer visit them.

Despite an exhaustive investigation, Mary Shotwell Little still remains missing today.

#Mary Shotwell Little #true crime #unsolved #missing #mystery

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steddie-thirst · 2 years

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You Can Run | Mean!Steddie x Henderson!Reader | 18+ |

Summary: Steve and Eddie can agree on one thing an that's you. Things heat up when they decide to work together in achieving their goal.

Warnings: stalking, killing, 18+, ghostface, micheal, kidnapping, explicit themes, steddie being a good duo, ghostface calls, Stalker!eddie, Mean!Steve

(( Update note: Because I no longer like writing Y/N for the name thing, I have decided to name my reader Belle, but this still an x reader, but the name Belle is used in place.))

After the rather odd phone call and a quick breath of fresh air it was time for bed. That was enough excitement for one day, already finding school tiring enough. Adding creepy stalkers to the list was not helping. However, when you reached the first step the phone rang once more. Darn - You turned on your heels and pad back into the kitchen snatching the device off its stand. "Hello? Henderson, residence."

"Well, Hello -- Again." Same cadence, still altered, and much more excited than last time, judging by the small hitch in his breath.

You decide to play along into the mystery caller's game, tilting your head as you keep up with the sweet tone. "Ooh , so you do remember me." You coo into the receiver voice thick like honey.

He chuckles, "Mhm." His voice hums. "Couldn't forget a pretty voice like yours." Enjoying the way it left a surge of chills down your spine.

"You remember all the girls you talk to, huh?" Questioning him earns another breathy laugh, making you bite your bottom lip. He surely knew how to work a girl - Goodness.

"No, just the ones I plan on asking out." The stranger replied and you giggled. "What? You don't let guys ask you out?"

"Not recently. Have had my eye on this one guy though." Shamefully admitting your deepest and darkest secrets seemed harmless. He didn't know you or you him. So what was the danger? A little honest flirting and some sweet words wouldn't be that much of a bother.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, but he's not so into me I think." He clicks his tongue and you sigh with a slump of your shoulders.

"Wanna tell me his name, sweetheart?" He urges, practically on the edge of his seat, awaiting your answer. Maybe things would take a turn for the better.

"Eddie. He's just such a nice guy and -- and he's helped my brother so much - God - Then there's Steve. I sound like such a whore, b-but I really like them both." You stammer now really unsure of who to choose. One the one hand Eddie was funny, chivalrous, and kind hearted. The total opposite of the sweet, lively, and popular Steve. Two sides on one coin, but couldn't make of whether you wanted heads or tails. It was crazy, laughing at the uncertainty of it all.

"Well, Belle, seems you have a big choice ahead of you." As the words leave him sure of the reaction he'd receive. You fall silent instantly as his name falls from his lips.

"W-Wait - My name - How'd you know my name?" Things had taken a turn for the worse at this point and he chuckles, dark, and unforgiving.

"Because, sweetheart-" He lowers his voice, goosebumps spreading on your arms, as he speaks, "- I've been watching you this whole time. Now, if I was you I'd find a place to hide." You slam the phone down onto the stand and straighten your spine. Eyeing both kitchen entrances' slowly, gulping down the lump of fear that sat in your throat. Lip quivering as you bravely round the counter towards the left doorway. Briefly glancing at the pantry door when a muffled sound, unidentifiable, but loud enough to keep you worried. Keeping your hand rested on the counter as you slowly pad past the door.

The living-room was a quick shot from the kitchen, only having to make it past there in order to reach your front porch. As soon as you walked through that doorway a figure burst from the pantry. You whirl around a scream ripping through your throat, lungs burning from the sheer force of it. Immediately taking off towards the front door as the ghostly stranger chases after you.

"Shit! Shit!" You curse dodging the coffee table, only for him to step on top the surface and jump down on you. Tackling you down to the ground carpet biting into your back, bare legs and arms. You try to crawl away from him, but to no use. Suddenly gaining a brief moment of courage, you rear your leg back and kick him straight between his legs. The stranger falls back groaning in pain the knife clattering to the floor as he recovers from the sheer pain. You push up off the ground despite the weakness crying out from your overworked joints and run to the door.

Fingers working the locks, before flinging the door open. Only to be met face to face with a white mask, blue jumpsuit, and a large butcher knife. You quickly spin on your heels to run the other direction, but are cut off by Ghostface. Backing up into the other figure who quickly grabs ahold of you. One arm wrapped securely around your waist and the other over your chest. His muscles tensed holding you in place as the blade pressed ever so gently against your cheek. Your fingers dig into his arm clawing and pleading to be let go.

"Thank you, she would have gotten away." The ghostly stranger groaned reaching down to retrieve the lost hunting knife and sighed as he straightens back up. Revealing in the quiet sobs the racked through you. His voice - It sounded so familiar.

"W-Who are you?"

"Who am I?" He waves the knife around dramatically dropping his shoulders as you watch every move he makes. "You wanna go first big boy?" Ghostface steps closer to the brooding figure that had you restrained only receiving a grunt in response. "Guess that's a ye-Excuse me -- And viola!" He pulls the mask off and you crane your head back to eye the - not so stranger - as his hazel irises stare back down at your shaking figure.

Your heart shatters as his name passes your lips, "S-Steve..?" There's no mistaken that floppy chestnut-brown hair and those soft lips.

"Surprise!" Ghostface sings with a dramatic wave of his hands.

"Steve, why?" You whine, looking back at a guy you once trusted. Having delved into your most deepest secrets knowing he'd be there to listen and lend a hand. It just doesn't make any sense. Why would such a guy chose to do this and to someone who you'd been nothing short of nice to. Steve was your friend and deepest crush.

"Aww, she's scared." Ghostface coos watching your breath catch in your throat as you turn to look back at him. Steve laughs from behind you, chest vibrating against your back and he sighs.

"I know, it's addicting. I cannot wait to see how she reacts to you, baby." Steve speaks softly from behind you. Ghostface tilts his head watching you carefully, before reaching a gloved hand to pull back his hood, then removing his mask allowing it to clatter to the floor. Your whole body goes week as your eyes fall on those familiar features. Steve hauls you up against him, keeping you from falling down. Dark curls, a cheeky smile, and soft brown eyes.

"Surprise, sweetheart. Not what you expected huh?" His voice is cocky as he swaggers over to you. His hand raises the knife to your other cheek, licking his lips as he eyes you.

"E-Eddie?" Your bravado falters. To close to be a dream seeing as he was standing right there in front of you. His lips quirk into a sly smirk, as he takes in a deep breath, eyes looking you over.

"Say my name again, princess." Eddie demands pressing the curve of the blade deeper.

"E-Eddie plea-"

"Ah." He chides pressing it deeper earning a pitiful sob. "Again." He demands eyes flitting up to spare a glance at Steve. His lips twitching into a smile as you practically shake beneath them.

"Eddie, please stop.. you're scaring m-"

"Good." He growls at you, trailing the tip of the blade down the curve of your jaw, along your neckline, enjoying the way your throat bobs against his knife. Oh, you were a fucking prize. "I've been thinking day and night about you, Belle." He admits eyeing the dips of your breasts, hidden behind your pink tank-top. "Then you went and admitted your little crush - Fuck - I almost jumped on you then."

"Please don't kill me." You plead with Eddie small drops of salty tears drip down your cheeks, eyes glassy with them as you look up at the guitarist. He wasn't the same anymore. Those once bright eyes now filled with something dark.

"We aren't going to kill you, baby." Steve reassures you going to tuck his knife away knowing Eddie still had a grip on his own if you tried anything. You were a bit relieved, but it dropped. Heart dropping down to your stomach as Eddie spoke again face dangerously close to yours.

"We're gonna keep you. Steve." The larger male lifted you off the ground and slung your small figure over his shoulder albeit effortlessly. A cry leaves your lips as your hands come down on his shoulder blades, "She's feisty." Eddie chuckles, watching you struggle, squirm, and fight against Steve as he drags you out the door on his shoulder. One arm tucked over the curve of your knees and the other on the small of her back.

Eddie's pride flies out the window when you open your mouth, "Help me! Somebo-" He clamps his palm over your parted lips and a quiet whimper leaves you, hands clawing at his wrist as his nails dig into the skin of your cheeks.

"Shut the fuck up or I will hurt you, sweetheart." He threatens. "Got it?" You nod and he sighs relieved moving his hand away, only to brush his knuckle over your reddened cheeks. Only able to let out pitiful sobs and soft whimpers, "Good girl. You'll learn soon enough."

"You belong to us now." Steve chimed in as they reach his car, Eddie eagerly flinging open the trunk and he dumps you inside.

"Both of us." He shuts the trunk with a slam and you burst out into a full sob, crying out, but muffled by the layered metal of the BMW. No one heard you nor would help be coming. Eddie and Steve had you in their grasp and they were never going to let you got.

Not now.

Not ever...

TAGLIST:

@yaspillz @st-ls @munsonloverblog @off-phelia @strangerthingsstories5255 @fujiihime @shyposttree @damon-loves-pie @fanficfanatic204 @positivevibesnlif3 @beebslebobs @seratoninsickness @k0urti @thatlonelypieceoftoast @marianita195 @b-barnes04 @phantomxoxo @wittlewowa @buchanansbaby @rollergirlworld @allithewriter @555stargirl555

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allthecanadianpolitics · 6 months

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The province’s police watchdog has cleared an officer who discharged an anti-riot weapon at a man who threatened to shoot at police at his home in Picton, Ont.

The investigation follows an incident that happened on July 23. Ontario Provincial Police (OPP) received a call at around 10:20 a.m. that an unidentified 66-year-old man, referred to as the complainant in the report, had fired his rifle a number of times on his property.

The report says the complainant instructed the caller to contact the OPP to say he would be “waiting for them outside.” According to the report, the caller mentioned the man had “mental health issues.”

Full article

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

#cdnpoli #canada #canadian politics #canadian news #canadian #ontario #picton #ontario provincial police #OPP #cops #police

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5mind · 1 day

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♦️ + chompable units. good as hell!

anonymously send me a ♦️ + your honest opinion of my portrayal(s), no questions asked

DON'T EAT THEM????? YOULL BREAK YOUR TEETH

#[ out of circuits ]#[ unidentified caller ]

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skelbton · 1 year

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"Soldier do you copy? code 89-55-12 I repeat: code 89-55-12. Do you copy?"

Copy that, 89-55-12 is a restricted code, unidentified caller please ID

#first ask in a while

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revasserium · 1 year

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reqs are open :)

152. horrific distortion

tendou; 1,840 words; i. am so. so sorry. please please PLEASE read the content warnings. and pls do not read if any of them bug you in the slightest. please.

cw: mentions of death, murder, suicide; general mental illness; mcd; dark af!!!!

“when this monster entered my brain, i will never know, but, it is here to stay.” - dennis rader, btk

[[wednesday, 21:42]] WOMAN FOUND DEAD IN SENDAI PARK sendai, miyagi — police pulled the partially decomposed body of an unidentified young woman, early twenties, from the kotodai park late last night. investigators are actively seeking any information on —

tendou lets his head fall back onto the smooth, cool leather sofa back, the ceiling fan spinning slow circles against the distant neon city lights. he closes his eyes and remembers — the heat of her skin, the smell of her hair, the rush of adrenaline as she gasped beneath him. he could count every single lash over those gorgeous, gorgeous eyes — he shivers as he relives the memories of watching the life drain from them, second by second, breath by breath, until — ah —

ecstacy.

he lets out a long breath, opening his eyes only to realize how tightly he’d been clenching his fists, scoffing as he bends over his palms to examine the tiny, crescent-moon indents. at least there’d been no blood this time. call him what you will — sadistic, monster, murderer, but not “messy”. no, never that.

his phone buzzes alive and he picks it up, cocking his eyebrows at the incoming caller id. he grins as he presses the phone up to his ear to answer.

“ahhh wakatoshi-kun! mhm, mhm — sure! sure! i’ll see you there in fifteen!” he grins as he clicks shut his phone and gets to his feet, humming an off-tune jingle as he gathers his things. he checks everything once before he leaves: phone, keys, wallet — check; gloves, fish-wire, hand sanitizer — check; duct tape — check; police scanner — check; cigarette lighter — check.

he flicks off the lights. it’s going to be a good, good night.

he sees you after his usual midnight coffee, after ushijima reminds him for the hundredth time that no, i’m not looking into those dead girls, i’m in the white collar crime division and no, i don’t think it’s anyone we know but that if it were, it certainly wouldn’t be tendou. after all, why would a murderer be best friends with a cop? stupid, right? absolutely ridiculous.

you smile at him as he walks out of the 24-hour diner, your hair slightly damp from an earlier bout of summer rain, your clear plastic umbrella dripping by your side. he catches a whiff of your expensive perfume and he knows you’re the one.

[[wednesday 22:12]] WOMAN FOUND DEAD IN SENDAI PARK sendai, miyagi — earlier this evening, the police confirmed that the body of the unidentified young woman found at kotodai park last night has been ruled a victim of homicide. early investigations cannot currently determine the cause of death but —

you sigh, swiping through the evening news, wondering vaguely what you should have for dinner, or if it is, in fact, way too late to be ordering food. the headlines flash across your screen, another dead girl, third in three months. that’s gotta be serial right? does sendai have a serial killers? has that ever even happened before?

shaking your head, you decide that this, of all things, is definitely not in your wheelhouse. you check your watch and curse as you realize that you’ve just missed the second to last train. it’d be another 33 minutes exactly before another train comes. you slow your steps as you near the station, rounding a corner onto a smaller street, the pavement bright but eerily quiet, casting your eyes up towards the moonless night. well, you think, if a serial killer were to be on the loose. tonight would be the perfect night, wouldn’t it?

you allow yourself a tiny laugh, thinking back on the past three months of your life, the monotony of daily life, the seemingly endless list of menial and yet impossible to finish tasks at work, the dwindling number of your friends, the less and less frequent calls from your family. you wonder if anyone would miss you.

and you think, ah… it wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“sah… are you lost, miss?”

you whirl around to find him there, grinning down at you, his eyes dark pinpoints, devoid of light. he’s tall, you think, and strong, you realize, just as he reaches out to wrap his arm around your neck and squeeze. you almost go without a fight.

“p-please…” you try to struggle, but his grip is unrelenting, even as he drags you with him, humming off-key, his free hand twisting through the air as if conducting some invisible orchestra, “please — w-whatever you want — take it —”

“oh? oh really?” he turns, expression bright and almost child-like, but there’s nothing innocent about the glint of his teeth, the way his smile doesn’t really reach his eyes. a strange thrill eats through you as he leans in, nearly pressing his forehead to yours, crowding into your space even as he has you in a chokehold, “and what, exactly, do you imagine i would want from you, hmmmm?”

he drags out the question, his voice like a mis-played note on a broken guitar, full of twist and twang and a certain deadly triumph. as if even his body is surprised he were able to make such a sound.

you grapple with the question, shoving weakly at his arm, and even though he still allows you sporadic gasps of air, you can feel your vision blurring.

“i — i don’t know…” you say, your fingers and toes already going numb, a pounding growing louder and louder behind your ears, “i — h-have no-nothing — just…”

“just?”

he cocks his head, like a bird, watching an insect struggle, pinned beneath it’s talons.

“my life —” you finally manage to choke out. black dots gather at the edges of your vision, the world feels all at once full of water and too light with air. you can’t tell if you’re drowning or floating, but there are pinprick stars up in the velvet-clad night. how beautiful, you think, how beautiful they’ve always been. how painful to be there, burning for a universe that has never spared a thought for you, to keep on shedding parts of yourself and tossing them into an endless night, never knowing if someone, anyone will ever get the chance to see.

“ha….?

[[thursday 00:09]] WOMAN FOUND DEAD IN SENDAI PARK sendai, miyagi — new images showing three round burn-marks leaked to the media by an unknown source confirms that this fourth body is linked to the recent string of murders allegedly committed by the same —

you’re nearly delirious now, tendou’s sure of it, but still, he finds himself enthralled by the sight of you, by the bits of red and pink spreading over your cheeks, like blots of ink seeping into your parchment skin, by the feel of your fingers digging, digging, into his forearms, even through his light jacket, by how in what you might think are the last moments of your life, your eyes are so far away.

most people at least do him the favor of looking at him before they die.

unbidden, his grip starts to loosen, and he reaches out his other hand to steady you.

you suck in a heavy breath, but you make no move to run away. instead, you just cough, reaching up as if to massage your rapidly bruising throat but dropping your hand at the last second.

“m-my life,” you say again, “y-you as-asked me what i have that you — you might want.”

“ah… haha!” he breaks out into a bark of wild laughter, letting his arms drop completely from around you as he clutches at his own stomach, doubling over before he looks up, “you’re right! you’re right — you’re absolutely right! bingo! jeopardy! ding-ding! we’ve got a winner!”

you’re still panting, watching him wipe his eyes of his mirth-induced tears. and still, you make no move to run.

“so… it’s true then. there’s a serial killer in sendai… and it’s you.”

tendou lets out a breath, shrugging his shoulders as he straightens again, shaking a single finger at you as if a teacher, admonishing a grade-school student.

“mah, mah, mah… for such a sharp girl, you really aren’t making the smartest decisions tonight.”

“what, like not running? or fighting harder?” you’re still a bit breathless, but he can see the mistiness fading from behind your eyes, and he feels pinned by the darkness. “i’ve read the articles, i’ve seen the news. i know that once you grab a girl, there’s no way you’d let them go. you’re too good for that.”

“hmmmm flattery will get you everywhere, darling, but you’re right there as well.” he reaches down to trace a long finger over your jawline, down the side of your neck, pausing at the ragged red marks he’d left with his arm only moments ago. slowly, methodically, he pulls out the tape, the gloves, the sanitizer. the wire, the scanner, the cigarette lighter.

“so? any last words? i’ll even strike you a deal — if you make them good, i’ll make sure you die the quickest, how’s that? less suffering, and all that.”

he flaps his hands, as if offering you some kind of three-for-one deal at the local grocery mart.

you sigh, you nod, you lick your lips.

“will you miss me?”

tendou feels the shivers as they kiss up his spine, feels the flutter in his stomach like a million butterflies stretching their wings. he lets out a soft breath and savors the moment.

mmm… ecstacy, indeed.

and he almost hesitates, because he knows it’ll never get better than this. he knows that somehow, this will be his best one yet — you, the brightest star in his entire sky, shedding and shedding your light.

“i will,” he says, as he wipes down his hands and slides on his gloves, “i promise,” he says, as he reaches forward to press the tape to your mouth, “i know,” he says, as he pulls you close, looping the fishing wire around your neck once, twice, three times. “i’m here,” he says, and when he tugs this time, you go limp in his arms.

he takes out the cigarette lighter and a cigarette.

“i miss them all,” he says.

“every. single. one.” as he lights the cigarette and watches the tip burn red.

“but… trust me when i say, darling, i will miss you most of all.”

#tendou satori #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#tendou satori x reader #haikyuu angst #tendou satori angst #tendou satori x you #haicuties #does this even COUNT as angst???? i...... am UNCERTAIN #is 'haikyuu THRILLER' a thing cause if it aint #its about to be one LOL #once again i do apologize but... the inspo bit and i wanted to follow it thru. and honestly #i'd LOVE to know what you guys thought #the ones of you who read it that is -- and honestly totally fine if you didnt. this was a Weird One.#but then again so is tendou so....#also -- time is a flat circle. pls dont ask me how it works here.#tendou

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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 1 year

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The Mysterious Death of Charles Morgan

Thirty-nine-year-old Chuck Morgan was a successful businessman who was the president of his own escrow agency. He was also a potential witness in a state land fraud case involving a known crime boss. On March 22, 1977, he left his Tucson, Arizona home to drive two of his daughters to school. After dropping them off, he vanished. Three days later, he arrived back at his home. According to his wife, Ruth, he was missing a shoe, had a plastic handcuff around one ankle, and had his hands tied together with a plastic zip tie. He could not speak, but with a pen and paper, he wrote down that he had been kidnapped and tortured. He also wrote that a hallucinogenic drug had been painted on his throat. He claimed that this drug would drive him insane or kill him if he ingested it. He asked Ruth to move his car, because he did not want "them" to know that he had returned home. However, he would not say who "they" were. He also told her not to call the police because a hit would be put out on the lives of them and their family members. For one week, Ruth nursed Chuck back to health by feeding him with an eye dropper. Before his voice returned, he began to allude to a secret identity. He claimed that he had worked as an agent for the federal government and he fought against organized crime. He also claimed that "they" had taken his treasury identification. He said that he escaped from his captors near Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport. After his kidnapping, Chuck became justifiably paranoid. He began wearing a bulletproof vest and even grew a beard to further mask his identity. He also started driving his daughters to and from school. He informed the school that nobody else should be allowed to pick them up. On June 7, two months after his initial disappearance, Chuck vanished again. Shortly before his second disappearance, he told his father that if anything were to happen to him, there was a letter he had written that would tell them who was responsible. The letter was never found; however, nine days later, an unidentified woman called Ruth and said: "Chuck is alright, Ecclesiastics 12: 1-8". This is a reference to a Bible passage, which reads, in part: "Men are afraid of a high place and of terrors on the road. Remember him before the silver cord is broken and the golden bowl is crushed. Then the dust will return to the earth as it was and the spirit will return to God who gave it." Two days later, Chuck was found shot to death despite the fact he was found wearing a bulletproof vest. His body was found in the desert thirty feet off the highway in the San Juan Springs area. He had been shot once in the back of the head with a bullet from his .357 Magnum, which was lying beside him. No fingerprints were found on it. Gunshot residue was found on his left hand, indicating he had fired a weapon. In his car, police found a note that had directions to the crime scene written in his handwriting. Also found in the car were several weapons, ammunition, and a CB radio. Strangely, a piece of one of his teeth was found wrapped in a white handkerchief in the back seat. A pair of sunglasses was also found that did not belong to him. Strangely, Chuck had clipped a $2 bill inside his underwear. Written on the bill were seven Spanish names from the letters A to G. Also, Ecclesiastics 12 was written, with the verses 1 through 8 marked by arrows drawn on the bill's serial number. This was the same reference that the female caller had made to Ruth. On the back of the bill, the signers of the Declaration of Independence were numbered 1 through 7. Also, a crude map was drawn, which show several roads between Tucson and the Mexican border. The towns Robles Junction and Sasabe were marked; these towns are apparently known for smuggling. Two days after Chuck's death, an anonymous woman spoke to an officer for the Pima County Sheriff's Department on the telephone. She claimed that he was supposed to meet her at a local motel shortly before he died. She claimed that her nickname was "Green Eyes" and that she was the same woman that had called Ruth several days earlier. She also claimed that at the motel, Chuck showed her a briefcase containing several thousand dollars in cash. He said that the money would buy him out of a gang contract that had been put on his life. Surprisingly, despite the bizarre evidence, authorities ruled that Chuck committed suicide. They believed that he did so either because of financial difficulties or fears for his safety. His family and a reporter named Don Deveraux believe he was murdered. Some investigators also suspect that his death was not a suicide. Shortly after Chuck's death, his impounded car was broken into while it was in police possession. Around that same time, his office was also ransacked. Three weeks after his death, two men claiming to be FBI agents arrived at the Morgan home. They told Ruth that they had to look through the house. They tore the house apart and searched for quite awhile. It is unknown if they ever found anything or if they were even FBI agents. When Deveraux contacted the FBI, they claimed that they had never even heard of Chuck Morgan. There are several rumors surrounding this case, including that Chuck was killed because he was involved with illegal activity or was doing secret work for the government. His death seems just as unexplained as the events leading to it.

#Charles Morgan #unsolved #unsolved mysteries #crime #true crime #murder

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dailyunsolvedmysteries-movedd · 9 months

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39 year old Chuck Morgan was a successful businessman who was the president of his own escrow agency. He was also a potential witness in a state land fraud case involving a known crime boss. On March 22, 1977, he left his Tucson, Arizona home to drive two of his daughters to school. After dropping them off, he vanished.

Three days later, he arrived back at his home. According to his wife, Ruth, he was missing a shoe, had a plastic handcuff around one ankle, and had his hands tied together with a plastic zip tie. He could not speak, but with a pen and paper, he wrote down that he had been kidnapped and tortured. He also wrote that a hallucinogenic drug had been painted on his throat. He claimed that this drug would drive him insane or kill him if he ingested it. He asked Ruth to move his car, because he did not want "them" to know that he had returned home. However, he would not say who "they" were. He also told her not to call the police because a hit would be put out on the lives of them and their family members. For one week, Ruth nursed Chuck back to health by feeding him with an eye dropper. Before his voice returned, he began to allude to a secret identity. He claimed that he had worked as an agent for the federal government and he fought against organized crime. He also claimed that "they" had taken his treasury identification. He said that he escaped from his captors near Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport. After his kidnapping, Chuck became justifiably paranoid. He began wearing a bulletproof vest and even grew a beard to further mask his identity. He also started driving his daughters to and from school. He informed the school that nobody else should be allowed to pick them up.

On June 7, two months after his initial disappearance, Chuck vanished again. Shortly before his second disappearance, he told his father that if anything were to happen to him, there was a letter he had written that would tell them who was responsible. The letter was never found; however, nine days later, an unidentified woman called Ruth and said: "Chuck is alright, Ecclesiastics 12: 1-8". This is a reference to a Bible passage, which reads, in part: "Men are afraid of a high place and of terrors on the road. Remember him before the silver cord is broken and the golden bowl is crushed. Then the dust will return to the earth as it was and the spirit will return to God who gave it." Two days later, Chuck was found shot to death despite the fact he was found wearing a bulletproof vest.

His body was found in the desert thirty feet off the highway in the San Juan Springs area. He had been shot once in the back of the head with a bullet from his .357 Magnum, which was lying beside him. No fingerprints were found on it. Gunshot residue was found on his left hand, indicating he had fired a weapon. In his car, police found a note that had directions to the crime scene written in his handwriting. Also found in the car were several weapons, ammunition, and a CB radio.

Strangely, a piece of one of his teeth was found wrapped in a white handkerchief in the back seat. A pair of sunglasses was also found that did not belong to him. Strangely, Chuck had clipped a $2 bill inside his underwear. Written on the bill were seven Spanish names from the letters A to G. Also, Ecclesiastics 12 was written, with the verses 1 through 8 marked by arrows drawn on the bill's serial number. This was the same reference that the female caller had made to Ruth. On the back of the bill, the signers of the Declaration of Independence were numbered 1 through 7. Also, a crude map was drawn, which show several roads between Tucson and the Mexican border. The towns Robles Junction and Sasabe were marked; these towns are apparently known for smuggling. Two days after Chuck's death, an anonymous woman spoke to an officer for the Pima County Sheriff's Department on the telephone. She claimed that he was supposed to meet her at a local motel shortly before he died. She claimed that her nickname was "Green Eyes" and that she was the same woman that had called Ruth several days earlier. She also claimed that at the motel, Chuck showed her a briefcase containing several thousand dollars in cash. He said that the money would buy him out of a gang contract that had been put on his life.

Surprisingly, despite the bizarre evidence, authorities ruled that Chuck committed suicide. They believed that he did so either because of financial difficulties or fears for his safety. His family and a reporter named Don Deveraux believe he was murdered. Some investigators also suspect that his death was not a suicide. Shortly after Chuck's death, his impounded car was broken into while it was in police possession.

#Charles Morgan #unsolved #unsolved mysteries #crime #true crime #murder

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archivist-crow · 4 months

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On this day:

CADET RICHARD COX DISAPPEARS

On January 14, 1950, cadet Richard Cox, brilliant scholar and athlete, with no known vices, was last seen in his room at West Point Military Academy, getting ready to met an enigmatic stranger for dinner. Cox, happy in his career and engaged to be married, had received a mysterious visitor named George the week before. Cadet Peter Hains took the call from the stranger asking for Dick Cox. Cox did not recognize the caller's name, but he knew the fellow when he saw him. The man, six feet tall, of medium weight and coloring, wore a trench coat. He teased Richard about his uniform while the cadet was getting his coat and then they headed off base for dinner.

A few hours later Cox returned, inebriated, and fell asleep over his books. When taps sounded (to signal lights out,) he jumped up, startled, and shouted out an unidentifiable word, and then he dropped onto his bed, fully clothed, to sleep again. The next morning he told his friends that the fellow, whom he never referred to by name, was a morbid, sadistic person who had been part of Cox's outfit when he was stationed in Germany in 1947. The man had been drinking and wouldn't let Cox out of his car until Cox indulged as well. Cox hoped it was the last he had seen of him.

At dinnertime on January 14, George apparently appeared at the barracks again, and Cox went to the nearby Hotel Thayer for a meal with the man. Looking pensive in his long gray overcoat, Cox checked his watch and left the room, never to be seen again. No one noticed him leaving the barracks, and the sentries had no sign of George.

When Cox was absent from his room in the morning, New York State Police issued a thirteen-state alarm. Every corner of every building on and around the academy was searched. Helicopters were part of the dragnet, and the academy's pond was drained, but to no avail.

Text from: Almanac of the Infamous, the Incredible, and the Ignored by Juanita Rose Violins, published by Weiser Books, 2009

#on this day #january #Richard cox #mysterious disappearances

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morbidology · 10 months

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Dorothy Jane Scott, a 32-year-old resident of Stanton, California, shared her home with her aunt and her 4-year-old son, Shanti. On the morning of May 28, 1980, Dorothy dropped off her son at her parents' house before heading to work in Anaheim, California.

During her workday, one of her coworkers, Conrad Bostron, suddenly experienced severe pain. Displaying her kind and compassionate nature, Dorothy offered to take him to the hospital. It turned out that Conrad had been bitten by a spider. When it was time for him to leave the hospital, Dorothy volunteered to retrieve her car from the back parking lot and drive it to the front entrance, minimizing Conrad's walking distance.

As Conrad waited outside, Dorothy's absence began to exceed the expected time. Suddenly, to his surprise, he witnessed Dorothy's car hastily speeding out of the parking lot and disappearing around the corner, leaving him behind. Concerned, Conrad contacted the police after Dorothy failed to return. Overwhelming dread gripped him.

In the preceding months, Dorothy had been receiving disturbing and threatening phone calls from an unknown individual. The anonymous caller would describe her whereabouts and activities with unsettling accuracy. Filled with terror, Dorothy even took karate lessons to defend herself in case her stalker ever attacked. During these chilling phone conversations, he frequently expressed his intention to kill Dorothy and even went as far as to threaten to abduct and dismember her.

In the early hours of the next morning, Dorothy's burnt-out car was discovered approximately 10 miles away from the hospital, but there was no trace of Dorothy herself. In the following years, Dorothy's mother received taunting phone calls on Wednesdays, during which the caller claimed to still have Dorothy or admitted to murdering her.

Eventually, the calls ceased, but in August 1984, Dorothy's remains were found on Santa Ann Canyon Road. Due to decomposition, the cause of her death could not be determined. Shortly after the discovery, the menacing phone calls resumed, although the police were unable to trace them. The taunting voice would often ask, "Is Dorothy home?" before abruptly hanging up.

Investigators publicly stated their belief that the unidentified man who had relentlessly harassed Dorothy and later her mother was also her killer. However, his identity remains unknown to this day.

#unsolved #true crime #mystery #cold case

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