In May 2013, Tim Bosma left his rural Ontario home for a late night test drive with two men interested in buying his truck. He never returned. What followed was a complex investigation that uncovered a case driven not by need, but by entitlement.

Authorities soon focused on Dellen Millard, a wealthy aviation heir known for risk taking and a pattern of reckless behavior. Investigators pieced together evidence including burner phones, GPS data, and messages referencing so called “missions.” Their findings led to a custom built industrial device owned by Millard, where evidence later confirmed Tim Bosma’s death.

As the investigation widened, police also connected Millard to the disappearance of his former girlfriend, Laura Babcock, and the death of his father, Wayne Millard, which had initially been ruled a suicide. Millard and accomplice Mark Smich were ultimately convicted, and Millard is now serving multiple life sentences.

This case raises an unsettling question about power, privilege, and accountability. When consequences feel distant, how far will someone go?

Follow True Crime Recaps for weekly cases that examine the justice system and the stories that continue to raise difficult questions.

On August 22, 1990, Cheryl Henry and Andy Atkinson left a Houston nightclub and vanished. Their white car was later found abandoned at the end of a dark dead end street known locally as Lovers Lane. Inside the vehicle were broken glass, blood, and Cheryl’s belongings, but no sign of the couple.

Hours later, police made a horrifying discovery in a nearby wooded field. Cheryl had been sexually assaulted, bound, and murdered. Andy was found a short distance away, tied to a tree and killed. Investigators believe Cheryl was murdered first, forcing Andy to hear what was happening before his own death.

The crime scene contained disturbing and unexplained details. Golf balls and a club taken from Andy’s trunk were placed near Cheryl’s body. A twenty dollar bill lay nearby. Balloons were found hanging from tree branches. Despite FBI profiling, early DNA testing, and years of investigation, no suspect was identified.

Years later, DNA linked the Lovers Lane murders to a sexual assault that occurred two months earlier in Houston. The surviving victim described an attacker whose behavior suggested someone familiar with security or military style discipline. A confirmed DNA profile exists, but no arrest has ever been made.

More than three decades later, the murders of Cheryl Henry and Andy Atkinson remain unsolved, with hope resting on new forensic advances that could finally reveal the person responsible.

On May 10, 1979, six-year-old Rebecca “Becky” Kunash went to sleep in her Merritt Island, Florida home with a night light glowing beside her bed. Sometime after midnight, while her parents slept just feet away, a man removed her window screen, entered her bedroom, and abducted her.

By morning, Becky was gone. Her body was found hours later in a nearby canal.

Investigators quickly focused on Bryan Jennings, a twenty-year-old Marine home on leave who had been seen in the neighborhood that night. Fingerprints, footprints, and his own confession tied him directly to the crime. Jennings admitted to taking Becky from her bed, sexually assaulting her, and killing her before dumping her body in the water.

Jennings was convicted and sentenced to death, but his conviction was overturned and retried multiple times over the years. In 1986, a final death sentence was upheld. For Becky’s family, justice came slowly and painfully.

Nearly forty six years after the crime, Bryan Jennings was executed by lethal injection on November 13, 2025. He offered no final statement. This episode explores how a quiet night turned into a lifelong nightmare and the decades-long road to accountability for one of Florida’s most heartbreaking child abduction cases.

Emmy winning actor and director Timothy Busfield is facing serious criminal charges in New Mexico following allegations involving two child actors he worked with on the Fox series The Cleaning Lady. Prosecutors have charged Busfield with two counts of criminal sexual misconduct against a minor and one count of child abuse. He has denied all allegations and maintains his innocence.

According to court documents, investigators allege Busfield encouraged the twins to call him Uncle Tim, gave them gifts, and spent time with their family outside of filming. Prosecutors say he used moments of confusion on set to isolate the boys. One child reportedly disclosed that inappropriate contact began when he was seven years old, describing incidents that allegedly occurred on a bedroom set after filming paused. The second twin reported similar discomfort but said he did not speak up at the time.

Authorities cite therapy notes, medical evaluations, behavioral changes, and witness statements as part of the evidence supporting the charges. Prosecutors have also referenced prior allegations spanning decades, though none previously resulted in criminal convictions.

Busfield surrendered to authorities in January 2026 and was ordered held without bail. His defense team says the accusations are retaliatory after the children were written out of the show and claims he passed an independent polygraph test.

As the case moves forward, the court will decide whether the evidence supports the charges. Until then, the allegations remain unproven, and the outcome could have major implications for accountability and child safety in the entertainment industry.

In November 1998, Shandelle Maycock trusted a man she knew from church, Harrel Braddy. What began as an uncomfortable acquaintance quickly turned into a violent kidnapping. Braddy attacked Shandelle inside her apartment, choking her unconscious multiple times before forcing both her and her five year old daughter, Quantisha “Candy” Maycock, into his car.

When the pair tried to escape, Braddy forced Shandelle into the trunk and drove her to a remote area where he left her for dead. She survived and was able to get help. Her daughter did not.

For nearly two days, Braddy refused to tell police where Candy was, sending search teams in the wrong direction. When he finally spoke, he led detectives to Alligator Alley in South Florida, an area lined with canals known to contain alligators. He admitted he left the child alive near the water. Candy’s body was later found floating in a canal. The medical examiner confirmed she suffered blunt force injuries and alligator bites while still alive.

In 2007, Braddy was convicted of first degree murder and sentenced to death by an eleven to one jury vote. That sentence was later overturned after Florida changed its death penalty laws to require unanimous jury decisions. Now, more than twenty five years after Candy’s death, Braddy is back in court under new sentencing rules that again allow non unanimous verdicts.

At seventy six years old, he faces the possibility of the death penalty once more, raising painful questions about justice, accountability, and whether any sentence can ever match the cruelty of this crime.

In late December, Monique and Spencer Tepe were found shot to death inside their Ohio home, the same place where they had once exchanged wedding vows. The killings happened in the early morning hours while their two young children slept in nearby bedrooms, unharmed and unaware. There were no signs of forced entry and no weapon left behind.

Surveillance footage later showed a hooded figure walking calmly through a snowy alley near the townhouse around the time of the murders. Investigators also tracked a vehicle seen arriving shortly before the shooting and leaving soon after. That vehicle was traced more than four hundred miles away to Rockford, Illinois and linked to Monique’s ex husband, Michael McKee.

McKee was arrested and charged with two counts of aggravated murder. Prosecutors allege he drove overnight, committed the killings, and returned home as if nothing had happened.

Update: Family members now say McKee emotionally tormented Monique during their short marriage and describe the relationship as abusive. Police also report that during a search of McKee’s condo, multiple firearms were recovered and one weapon is believed to be a ballistic match to shell casings found at the crime scene. These are allegations, and the case will ultimately be decided in court.

Two parents are gone. Two children are left behind. And now a jury will be asked to decide whether this was an act of long held resentment, obsession, or something even darker.

In December 1991, four teenage girls were murdered inside an I Can’t Believe It’s Yogurt shop in Austin, Texas. Amy Ayers, Eliza Thomas, and sisters Jennifer and Sarah Harbison were tied, gagged, shot, and the store was set on fire in what investigators believe was an attempt to destroy evidence. The case became one of the most haunting unsolved crimes in Texas history.

Over the years, police chased false confessions, arrested the wrong men, and watched convictions collapse when DNA failed to match. Families were left without answers while the case remained frozen in time.

Now, more than thirty years later, cold case detectives say new DNA testing and ballistic evidence may finally point to a suspect. Investigators believe the crimes may be linked to Robert Eugene Brashers, a violent serial offender who died by suicide in 1999 after a police standoff in Missouri. Brashers is suspected in multiple rapes and murders across several states, and new forensic analysis has connected him to other cold cases using preserved shell casings and modern DNA technology.

In 2025, Travis County prosecutors officially moved to clear the men once accused of the yogurt shop murders, acknowledging that the new evidence does not support their convictions. While Brashers can never face trial, detectives say these findings may finally give families long overdue answers and could connect him to even more unsolved crimes.

After three decades of dead ends, is this the breakthrough that finally solves one of America’s most disturbing cold cases?

For years, a bizarre internet rumor has claimed that country music star Garth Brooks is secretly a serial killer. The story has spread so widely that many people now encounter it without realizing it started as a joke and has no basis in reality.

In this episode, we break down where the rumor came from, how it spread through memes and social media, and why it was never supported by a single piece of real evidence. There are no victims, no investigations, and no crimes connected to Garth Brooks at all. Just internet culture turning sarcasm into something that feels real if you hear it often enough.

We also look at how online conspiracy theories grow, why people are drawn to shocking claims, and how harmless jokes can morph into harmful misinformation. This case is not about crime. It is about how easily false stories can take on a life of their own.

So how does something this ridiculous spread so far, and why do people keep repeating it even when it is clearly not true?