Transcript
A (0:00)
Today's episode is a fan favorite. The audio and the story has been remastered for today's episode. On a September afternoon in 2000, an FBI forensics analyst stood in her lab in Quantico, Virginia, staring into a microscope in confusion. She was looking at two strands of hair that were evidence in a murder investigation, and something just wasn't right. She checked the label on the evidence bag the sample came from and then looked back into the microscope. And she knew she was not imagining this. The label had to be wrong, which meant that the detective who had packaged the hairs and sent them over here for analysis had not understood what he was even looking at. And this was not a small mistake. Because if the analyst was right about what these hairs really were, then this entire murder investigation was about to change. But before we get into that story, if you're a fan of the strange, dark and mysterious delivered in story format, then you've come to the right podcast. Because that's all we do. And we upload twice a week, once on Monday and once on Thursday. So if that's of interest to you, make the follow button jealous by posting pictures of yourself with other cooler buttons like the subscribe button. Okay, let's get into today's story.
B (1:33)
Your outdoor space is where you unwind and make memories, so make it count. Belgard Pavers are designed to elevate your outdoors. Designed forward and built to last. Learn more@belgard.com that's B E L G A R D.com K Pop Demon Hunters
C (1:48)
Haja Boy's breakfast meal and Hunt Tricks Meal have just dropped at McDonald's. They're calling this a battle for the fans. What do you say to that, Rumi?
D (1:56)
It's not a battle. So glad the Saja boys could take breakfast and give our meal the rest of the day.
A (2:01)
It is an honor to share. No, it's our honor. It is our larger honor. No, really, stop.
C (2:08)
You can really feel the respect in this battle. Pick a meal to pick a side
A (2:15)
and participate in McDonald's while supplies last. In the early evening of July 19, 2000, 22 year old Misty Morse carried her surfboard out of the water and onto the beach in Indian Harbor. Beach Beach, Florida. She laid the board down on the sand, then sat down next to it to catch her breath. Her heart was still racing from the last wave she had just caught and the adrenaline was exactly what she needed. Between her waitressing job and her sales clerk job and the community college courses she was taking, she basically had no time to do anything for herself and so to get out here and to be out on the ocean and just be away from it all was not only a great respite, but was also very calming for her. And so, looking out over the horizon, she dug her feet into the sand and watched the waves until her heart rate finally slowed down. After a few minutes, Misty got back up and carried her board over to some rocks where she had left her bag. She needed to check the time because she was going out with her friends later, and she still needed to get home to shower and have dinner and get ready. And as she reached her bag, she heard her phone ring. So she pulled it out and saw the name of the person who was calling her, Ricky Franklin. And she was about to pick it up, but then she stopped. Ricky was one of the guys that she was seeing. They'd gone out with some friends together yesterday and then watched a movie afterwards, just the two of them. But Misty wasn't so sure. Ricky was a sweet guy, but he called a lot, and Misty had a feeling he wanted to be more serious than she did. And she just wasn't looking for that because she was having fun sort of dating around. Aside from Ricky, she was also seeing another guy named Teddy Underwood, who she actually did really like. Misty worked with Teddy's sister at a restaurant, and they'd gone out a few weeks ago, and it had been great. They had a lot in common and it just felt easy to be around him. So she hoped that they would keep on hanging out, and who knows, maybe that would become more serious and maybe she'd be open to that. So Misty let Ricky's call go to voicemail and then tossed her phone back in her bag. She wasn't quite sure what she was going to do with him yet, but she figured she would talk it out with her friends later that night. Misty checked the time and saw it was 7pm so she had to hurry. She peeled off her wetsuit and organized her things. And as she was getting ready to go, she heard barking. And she turned and saw this shaggy dog run past her with its owner. And immediately it gave Misty this wave of sadness because it reminded her of her old dog, Chiba. Misty used to share Chiba with her ex boyfriend, Brent Huck, and she loved that dog more than anything. But when she and Brent broke up, Misty and Misty moved in with her mom. Her apartment complex didn't allow for dogs, so Misty had had to leave Chiba behind, and she really missed her. But Misty had seen Chiba a few times recently because Brent, despite being her ex, was actually still Another person that Misty was seeing right now, just more like a friends with benefits thing, not a relationship. Now, Misty knew this very likely was a bad idea because their relationship had been fraught with drama and Brent now had a girlfriend as well, but being with him felt nice and familiar. And plus, she got to see the dog, so she'd been putting off ending things. And so Brent was yet another thing she was planning to talk about that night with her friends. And so after watching the dog and the owner run off, Misty turned, dusted the sand off her legs, picked up her board, and walked off the beach, headed for home. Less than 10 minutes later, Misty walked into the apartment she shared with her mom, Linda, and dropped her stuff next to the door. She made her way into the kitchen where there was a big plate of lasagna her mother had left for her, along with a note that read, sleeping, Eat up. This was pretty typical. Misty's mom, Linda, was a bookkeeper and so she always had to get up really early in the morning to get to work, and so she was usually in bed by the time Misty got home at night. And so Misty happily grabbed a fork and sat down at the table to dig in. And as soon as she did, her phone rang and when she checked it, she sighed because it was Ricky again. This time, though, she decided to answer it and see what he wanted, and he told her he was just calling to touch base and also wanted to make sure they were still on for Friday. Misty felt sort of annoyed by this, but she did tell him they were good for Friday, and then they talked for maybe a minute or so before she told him that she had to go. After dinner, she spent the next few hours watching TV and texting her friends about their plans for the night. They were all going to drive to the Holiday Inn Beachside Hotel Bar, which was just a short drive south. A little after midnight, Misty took a shower and did her hair. Then she tiptoed to her mother's room and pushed open the door. She could see her mom sleeping in the darkness and felt bad waking her up. However, Misty did want to check in before she went out, so she walked over and gently shook her mother awake, and when Linda opened her eyes, Misty did a spin and asked how she looked, and even though she was very groggy, Linda smiled and said, you look great. Misty gave her a kiss and said she was heading out in the next hour or so, but she'd be home tomorrow. And also, could she borrow her mother's car to see a movie? Linda mumbled yes, and Closed her eyes again. Then Misty slipped back out of the bedroom. And about an hour and a half later, Linda woke up again. And when she did, she heard the sound of Misty's cell phone ringing just outside of her room. Three days later, on a Sunday afternoon, a man was at his home on the banks of the Indian river, located about 22 miles away from Misty's home. He'd gone outside to enjoy the last few moments of his weekend, and he was just taking in his beautiful view of the water. However, when he walked down to the edge of the river, he noticed something floating in the current towards him. It was large, gray, and slick, and even from several feet away, he could tell it was a dead manatee, which actually was not unusual for the area. The Indian river was a mix of salt and freshwater, and it was connected to the ocean, so it was a big feeding ground for manatees. But when this manatee floated past him, the man's stomach twisted, because now that he was getting an actual close up view, he realized it was not a manatee at all. The man stumbled backwards, then turned around and ran to his house to call 911. Within the hour, Agent Gary Harrell, who was an investigator with the Brevard County Sheriff's department, stood on a dock downriver from a private home on the Indian river in Florida. And he was staring at the water where the body of a dead woman with reddish brown hair floated face down near the dock, caught between some trees and some rocks. All around Harrell, the area was swarming with investigators, taking photos and looking for evidence. A dive team was also nearby, preparing to wade into the river with a body bag to get the floating woman onto dry land so Harold could examine her. Harold didn't want to rush them, but at the same time, he did need them to hurry, because the longer the body was in the water, the more physical evidence the current would wash away. And it wasn't just the loss of tissues or fibers that Harold was worried about. It was also the condition of any wounds on her body that might tell him how she died. Both moving water and marine life could damage a body, which could obscure the cause of death. The only information Harrell had at this moment was that this woman had been spotted floating down the river by a man who ended up calling 911. And Harold didn't know who she was, how she got in the water, whether this was accidental or intentional. And now it seemed like the water was washing away any clues that might help him figure all that out. So Harrell watched anxiously as the Dive team wrapped the woman in the bag and then pulled her onto shore. Once she was on dry land, Harrell hurried over to take a look. And as soon as he laid eyes on the body, he knew he had enough evidence to make at least one determination. This was no accident. This woman had been murdered. She was naked, and there was white duct tape across her eyes and some loose tape that was around her neck, which Harrell assumed had at one point been in her mouth, but then slid down. Her hands and feet were also bound, except by rope. And Harold could see that the rope she was tied up with was sort of unusual. It was a red and white diamond pattern with a big knot in it. There were also two ripped plastic bags that were tied to her feet, which Harold guessed had once contained rocks or something else that was heavy. To weigh her down, they very likely at some point ripped on the rocky river bottom, and then at that point, she floated up to the surface. So whoever killed her must have tried to sink her body in hopes that it would never be found. Harold just shook his head. He also suspected, since the woman was naked, that she had been the victim of sexual assault as well. But that was all he could guess right now. The woman was so bloated and already so decomposed, he couldn't even tell how old she was. He assumed she'd been in the water for at least a few days, which meant it was unlikely they'd be able to recover any DNA or forensic evidence from her body. But Harold did have a few things to work with. The rope could be analyzed. It had that distinctive pattern, so it might be traceable. Harold also made a mental note to show it to the Coast Guard, too, in case there was a boating or marine connection. And he was excited about the duct tape. Tape is an adhesive and can collect and hold onto things like hair or skin or other materials, even in a harsh underwater environment. So Harrell asked a nearby crime tech to photograph and bag all the items and then get her body ready to transport to the coroner's office. Harrell hoped the medical examiner would be able to find some more clues during the autopsy, like how his victim died, when she died, and most importantly, her name. The following afternoon. So, July 24th of 2000, Harold parked his cruiser in front of an apartment complex in Indian Harbor Beach. He'd just come from the autopsy, and he had been right about the condition of the woman's body. It was so deteriorated, the medical examiner couldn't figure out when she died or how she died. He couldn't even Tell whether she was alive or dead when she went into the water. But the medical examiner's best guess Was that she either drowned or she suffocated from the tape or from someone putting a hand over her mouth and nose to smother her. She didn't have any drugs in her system, and there were no bullet wounds, Stab marks, or broken bones. There was also no evidence of sexual assault that they could see. But again, it was very hard to tell. And even though there were a lot of unknowns here, this examination had told Harrell a few key things. The first was that his victim was not thrown into the river from a bridge or cliff because she didn't have that kind of trauma or physical injury to her body. Whoever had killed her had most likely dropped her sort of gently into the water, Likely from a boat. And the woman did not have any defensive wounds, which could mean a lot of things. Like, for example, you know, maybe her killer had a weapon, and they used that to scare her into compliance without any sort of physical fight. But harold thought it was more likely that she didn't physically fight back because she knew and trusted her killer. For one thing, women are more likely to be killed by an intimate partner. And also, there was no evidence of sexual assault, and that made a stranger attack a lot less likely. Since she was not targeted for the purpose of assaulting her, she was targeted for potentially something very personal. Plus, there was the tape over her eyes. Harrell didn't think that was about the killer protecting their identity. There was no chance of a dead victim identifying you, Harrell thought It was the kind of thing you do if you know your victim personally and you can't stand your victim staring at you while you kill them. But the biggest lead Harrell had gotten from this autopsy Was her identity. They had taken the woman's fingerprints and found a match. She was 22 year old. Misty Morse. So now harrell was in front of Misty's apartment, Where he'd learned she lived with her mom, Linda morse. And as the detective sat in his car, he took a deep breath. Because no matter how many times he had done this, Notifying loved ones about a death was always awful. As he made his way to the door and knocked, he felt this pit in his stomach. Moments later, a woman opened the door. Harold figured this had to be Linda. And as soon as he introduced himself, he saw her facial expression change. She gasped, and her eyes filled with tears as she asked, it was her, wasn't it? Harrell was sort of caught off guard before he realized that news outlets had already been reporting that a body had been found in the river. Now they had not released Misty's name yet, but he guessed that Linda must have seen the news and had been filled with dread ever since that that was her daughter. So he just replied that yes, it was her and her death looked like a homicide. And when he said that, Linda just broke down and began to sob.
