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Foreign. You're listening to a Tenderfoot TV podcast at Maurices. We're all about great jeans. You know, the ones that fit you just right, the ones that simply make you feel good because you don't just wear jeans, you live in them. Find great jeans starting at 29.90 in stores and@marisa's.com hi friends. I am so excited to share this new episode of True or Crime with you. If you want to listen ad free and get early access to all the episodes for this month's case, you can subscribe to Tenderfoot Plus@tenderfootplus.com or on Apple Podcasts. It's also one of the best ways to support the show. Hi friends. Before we dive in, I want to level with you for a second. Every case that we make here on True Crime takes over a hundred hours. And honestly, those hours don't really line up neatly for me. It's bouncing back and forth between running my photography business, which is what I do full time, and squeezing in hours for this show. For Olivia, our associate producer, it's nights and weekends on top of her other jobs. And together we're researching, interviewing, writing, making social posts and trailers and promo materials, all to hopefully get the word out about these stories. And you know, I'm going to be completely real. When I first started, I was probably a bit naive. I thought that passion alone could make a show like True or Crime sustainable. And while I am so proud of the community we've built because we've built such an amazing one, the truth is that we cannot keep going unless we have growth. We're not a show at one of those giant media companies with endless ad budgets and limitless reach. The way that we grow is through you all. And so for October, I was hoping that we could try something every week. This month I'm going to give you one small challenge. And I really think that if we do them all together, we could be shocked by what is possible. And this week, it's easy. Here is all I'm asking. I want you to share this episode with one friend. Just one. If you're listening on Apple or Spotify or honestly, any of the streaming platforms, the share button is right there. Just click those three little dots in the corner of the episode and do it right now. Tap it right now. Text it to the first person in your recents or somebody you know who loves True Crime or podcasts, or just someone you know who likes to think more deeply. It doesn't matter. Don't overthink it. And Please don't wait till later. Just send it now. Cuz you know how it gets. Later never comes sometimes. If everyone did this, if everyone shared this or another episode with one friend, our audience would literally double overnight. And that doubling, that's the difference between our team scraping together time in an already packed schedule and being able to turn this into something full time and really, truly sustainable. That's what you can help make possible. So thank you so much for your help. And let's get into today's episode. Please be aware that today's episode contains descriptions of violence and brief references to sexual assault. Please take care while listening. Yes, please. What's the problem? Sounds. What's the problem? What's the problem? Someone killed my parents. Pardon me. Zone killing. What? Who? In the summer of 1989, was. One phone call ignited a media frenzy that gripped the nation. Two brothers sobbing hysterical, saying their parents had just been shot. It was the kind of 911 call that grabs you by the throat, not just because of what they said, but because of where they were saying it from. This wasn't just any house. It was a mansion in Beverly Hills. And as you might have already guessed, this wasn't just any family. They were rich, connected, seemingly untouchable. What happened inside that home shocked the country. And seven months later, that shock deepened because the victim's sons, Lyle and Eric Menendez, weren't just witnesses, they were suspects. But what came next, no one saw coming. Because not only would the brothers confess to the crime, and they'd unearthed family secrets they'd spent their whole lives hiding. Suddenly, the case turned upside down. This is one of the most sensational crimes ever to explode in Hollywood, California. Jury hears opening statements today in the trial of two Beverly Hills brothers accused of murdering their wealthy parents. I don't have words to say how strong I feel about the complete impossibility of them having committed the act that they're accused of. I don't have any doubts of my f. Mother would have killed us and just walked into the room. I just started firing. And I don't know what followed. Wasn't just a murder trial. It was a courtroom drama, a tabloid frenzy, a trauma story that no one knew how to handle. And 30 years later, we still can't agree on what this case was actually about. Was it about money? About abuse? About power, pain, privilege? It's complicated, but as a culture, we didn't want it to be. And maybe that's why the media and the rest of us simplified. It, turned it into something easier to digest. That's what we're digging into today. Because this isn't just a story about what happened that summer night in Beverly Hills. It's a story about belief, about performance, about. About how complicated stories get flattened the moment the cameras start rolling. This is the story of the Menendez brothers. I'm Celisia Stanton and you're listening to truer crime. Beverly Hills in the late 1980s was the kind of place where nothing bad was supposed to happen. Pristine lawns, gated mansions, Bentleys and Benzes gliding past palm trees. It was glossy and aspirational. America's idea of perfection. If you believed the realtors and the tabloids, it was a place immune to tragedy. But behind the hedges and past the gates was a house where something had been brewing for years. The kind of tension that you can feel but can't prove. And on the night of August 20, 1989, that tension finally broke. The Menendez family had moved to California just a few years earlier. They started in Calabasas, a quieter kind of luxury. But it didn't take long before Jose moved the family into a $4 million mansion in Beverly Hills. A house with a past. It had once been owned by Elton John, then Michael Jackson. It was the kind of address that said you'd made it. Jose was a self made kind of guy. A Cuban immigrant who arrived in the US as a teenager, washed dishes at the 21 Club in New York to put himself through school and clawed his way up the ranks of corporate America and then the entertainment industry. By the 1980s, he was an executive at RCA Records, overseeing major artists and rising stars. As a journalist at the LA Times described, he was a man who arrived first at every conclusion and out hustled every competitor. His wife, Kitty was a former schoolteacher and beauty queen who'd once dreamed of being an actress. She eventually gave up those ambitions, though, to raise her two sons, Lyle and Eric. From the outside, the Menendez family seemed like they had it. A mansion, prestige. Two athletic, clean cut sons who played tennis, went to the best schools and wore all the right clothes. Then, on a quiet Sunday evening in Beverly Hills, that tranquility was shattered. According to the LA Times, it was around 10pm when neighbors heard what sounded like firecrackers through their open windows. They didn't think much of it, not until nearly midnight when word began to spread. It's not supposed to happen in Beverly Hills. A movie executive and his wife were brutally slain in their million dollar mansion. No signs of a break in or a burglary. Only the bodies of entertainment executive Jose Menendez and his wife Kitty in the family TV room, torn by shotgun blasts that one of the neighbor kids heard. It sounded like Neighbors said at 10pm they heard sounds like firecrackers, but then silence until an hour and a half later when this neighbor, who asked not to be identified, said she heard the shrieks of a boy curled up on the Menendez lawn. It was 18 year old Eric I've been in this business for over 33 years and I've heard of very few murders that were more savage than this one was. Thank you for calling the Bombas Comfort line. Bombas make socks, slippers, tees and underwear made with the highest quality materials. Press 1 for comfort, 2 for style, 3 for donation. You chose style. Bombas is style for whatever you enjoy. You can run in Bombas, lounge in Bombas, dress them up, dress them down, but always give back in Bombas because with every item purchased, another is donated Bombas Comfort worth calling for. 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It's proactive protection plus a 60 day money back guarantee and no contracts. To get 50% off your new system, go to SimpliSafe.com podcast that's SimpliSafe.com podcast There's no safe like SimpliSafe. To understand what happened next, we have to start with the story the brothers told police, the version of events they gave the night their parents were killed, and in their telling, that Sunday looked like it started off just like any other. According to the LA Times, it was a lazy day. They'd spent the morning playing tennis, as they often did, and it wasn't until later that the sons, Eric and Lyle, decided to go to the movies. First, they told police they tried to see License to Kill, but the lines were too long, so they saw Batman instead. Afterward, a food festival in Santa Monica and then a detour. Eric said he needed to grab his id, so the two headed home. What they walked into didn't feel real. Every day I remember the smoke, eric told police. It was like my mom burned something in the kitchen. The room was dark yellow. It was like a full slick haze. I've never seen anything like it. His father, Jose, was slumped over in the den, still wearing a sweatshirt and shorts. Bowls of strawberries and ice cream still sat on the table in front of him. He'd been shot point blank in the back of the head. Four more shots had torn through his limbs. Kitty, their mom, had tried to run, but she didn't make it far. She was shot multiple times, her body nearly unrecognizable. The scene was horrific. Fifteen blasts from two shotguns, the LA Times wrote, straight into one of the entertainment industry's fastest rising executives and his former beauty queen wife. And then came the call, the 911 recording you heard at the top of this episode. Nightmarish. Not just because of what was said, but because of who was saying it. Eric and Lyle Menendez, two sons from one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in America, sobbing on the phone, telling dispatchers their parents had just been murdered. In a country already anxious about crime, something about it felt especially chilling. If it could happen in Beverly Hills, it could happen anywhere. I've never seen my dad helpless, 19 year old Eric later told police. If Lyle and I had been home, maybe my dad would still be alive. According to the LA Times, when the police arrived, Eric was inconsolable, curled up on the lawn, sobbing and yelling out. Someone had to be held accountable. But to investigators, nothing about the crime scene made sense. As the ABC documentary Truth and Lies noted, there was no shell casings at the scene, nothing was stolen. There was no sign of force entry. Just two parents executed in their own home and two sons grieving, dazed and at the center of a mystery no one saw coming. There are still no official suspects tonight in that strange double murder of a video company executive and his wife in Beverly Hills. But Action News has learned exclusively that detectives believed the killings were a so called professional hit. Reporters called the killings a mob hit because in the investigation's early days it seemed like the work of someone trying to send a message. A law enforcement source told the LA Times that Jose Menendez had been shot in the back of the head, then again directly in the mouth. It was vicious, almost theatrical. As one detective told Vanity Fair, it was the most brutal scene he'd ever witnessed. It'd be hard to describe Jose, he admitted, as resembling a human that you would recognize. To many, that kind of brutality sounded professional. So the mob hit theory. It made sense. Jose had power. Maybe he had enemies, too. And Eric and Lyle seemed to think that could be the case. They told police that they were terrified that whoever killed their parents might be coming for them next. Within days, they had checked into a hotel and hired bodyguards. They bounced between properties, barely staying in one place for more than a few nights. And they had a theory of their own, too. According to Vanity Fair, Eric and Lyle told reporters that they believed the killer might have been a man named Noel Bloom. Bloom had once been a business associate of Jose's, but their relationship had soured after they had a falling out. Bloom was also rumored to have ties to the Bonanno organized crime family. From the outside, he looked like the perfect suspect. But Bloom, who denied any involvement, was never charged. And behind the scenes, police were starting to have their doubts. They knew what a mob hit looked like. It was fast, clean. A single bullet to the back of the head. Not two parents murdered together in their home in a frenzy of bullets and panic. So instead, detectives started looking closer to home. One officer told Vanity Fair, when two parents are killed, the first people you look at are the kids. But suspicion doesn't equal proof. The brothers had alibis. Ticket stubs. They said they'd gone to the movies, and when the bodies were found, they were distraught. Remember, Eric was sobbing on the lawn when police arrived. But still, something felt off. According to Vanity Fair, the authorities were used to families of murder victims clinging to the investigation. They'd beg for updates and obsess over leads. But Eric and Lyle didn't do that. If anything, they seemed calm, distracted, disengaged. Even after the murders, Lyle immediately threw himself into business, waking up early to run multiple meetings a day. People around him noticed a shift, too. He seemed more confident, like he'd stepped into his father's shoes overnight. It was clear to everyone just how eager he was to carry on his dad's legacy. But it wasn't just Lyle who was changing. Eric, who had originally planned to attend UCLA in the fall, shifted his focus to tennis, vying for a shot to go pro. Hopefully, he told The LA Times. In two years you'll be doing an article on us. And then there was the spending. Eric and Lyle were the heirs to their parents fortune, and they put it to use almost immediately. The numbers were staggering. A Rolex, a Porsche, $40,000 on new clothes. Tens of thousands more on a tennis coach. A $550,000 restaurant investment in Princeton, New Jersey. Some estimates say they spent as much as $700,000 in the months immediately after the murders. But even that wasn't proof. Not really. Grief makes people act in strange ways. And for all the red flags, the brothers were still sons who had lost their parents. But everything changed when, just months after the killings, Eric made a phone call. Not to police, but to his old therapist, Dr. Jerome Ozil. Ozil wasn't particularly close to the Menendez family. He treated Eric briefly in the past, but they didn't have much history. But ever since Jose and Kitty were killed, he'd started cozying up to the brothers. His ex girlfriend, Judalin Smith, would tell Vanity Fair that he seemed almost excited by the news of the murders. Eager to be so closely connected to such a high profile tragedy. He showed up at their memorial, offered support, checked in. He even gave Lyle and Eric advice as they sought an attorney to help execute their parents. Will. So when Eric called saying he wanted to meet, Ozil agreed. But not before hatching a plan. According to Vanity Fair, he told Judaline Smith, a woman he was having an affair with at the time, that he suspected Eric and Lyle had murdered their parents. What if he told Jutelin Eric planned to use this meeting to confess? He asked Jutelin to pose as his next patient, to eavesdrop and call for help if anything went wrong. When Eric arrived at Dr. Ozil's office, he asked to go for a walk. And on this walk, Eric did confess. He told the doctor that he and Lyle had murdered their parents. When they got back to the office, Ozil told Eric to call his brother to ask him to come into the office and tell him face to face what he just admitted to Lyle showed up furious. Jutelin said she could hear him yelling through the door. Afraid of being caught eavesdropping, she moved to the waiting room. And soon Eric ran out, tears streaming down his face. When Lyle and Dr. Ozil followed, Judelyn listened as Lyle's threats continued. Interestingly, though, Dr. Ozil didn't go to police. Remember, he was a therapist. He bound by confidentiality laws. So instead, he made several calls to lawyers and ethics board associates describing his situation In a nameless, hypothetical manner, he asked them for advice. But each call ended the same way. Because Dr. Ozil was threatened, they said the rules of doctor patient confidentiality no longer applied. Still, Dr. Ozil kept the brother secret. He even threatened Judelyn, warning her not to share anything she'd overheard. When she asked why he didn't plan to turn them in, he claimed that the boys owned the police. His plan was to threaten the brothers. He told them he recorded their confessions, that he hid the tapes in a safety deposit box, that he wouldn't share them as long as they didn't hurt him. But what Dr. Ozil didn't expect was for Judalin to strike out on her own. After breaking off her affair with the doctor, she went to police and she told them everything. That the boys had purchased guns using fake IDs in San Diego. That they used them to kill their parents. And she told officers she could prove it. There were tapes, she said, hidden in a safety deposit box. Police acted immediately to retrieve the evidence. It was right where she said it would be. Finally, after seven months, investigators had what they needed to arrest Lyle and Eric for murder. They got Lyle first. Outside the family's home, police swarmed him with guns drawn. The neighbors gawked as he was handcuffed in the street and guided to a patrol car. Eric, who was thousands of miles away at a tennis tournament in Israel, had no idea what had just happened back home. Coincidentally, he called his friend Noel to check in just as the news of Lyle's arrest started streaming through Noel's radio speakers. Eric, oblivious, asked how things were going. Noel paused. I hope you're sitting down, he said. According to Vanity Fair, Eric became hysterical, breaking down in tears at the news. A few days later, he flew home and turned himself in at the Los Angeles International Airport. The official theory was now clear. Eric and Lyle had killed their parents for money. But still, some people struggled to believe it. Friends and family told reporters they couldn't square it. Eric was close to his mom. Lyle idolized his dad, admired the man so much that he was known for annoying friends with stories of his father's successes. One family friend told the LA Times, it freezes the brain to imagine that Lyle and Eric, who they saw as privileged and loved, would do something like this. Because this wasn't just murder. It was shotgun blasts to the face. It was reloading to finish the job. For a son to do that to his parents, it was incomprehensible. So what could possibly drive two seemingly well adjusted, financially fortunate young men to murder their own parents? That was the question hanging in the air for so many watching the Menendez case unfold. Because if you looked at the headlines, the mansion, the tennis trophies, the Ivy League dreams, it didn't make sense. The Menendez family looked like the embodiment of the American dream. Jose and Kitty had built a life of privilege for their sons. It was filled with opportunity, with wealth. It was the kind of life people envied or thought they did. But that perfect exterior, it had cracks. And if you looked closely, you could see the pressure building underneath. Before Eric and Lyle were ever arrested, reporters were already speculating about motive. And in the early days, the spotlight wasn't on the brothers. It was on Joseph. Because the truth is, he had enemies. According to the Los Angeles Times, Jose was known in the entertainment world as extremely aggressive. A man who would cut corners when necessary. He could be charming, sure, but he could also be cold, calculating, relentless. The kind of guy who made deals that made people nervous, who won at all costs, who didn't care if you liked him so much as you respected him or feared him. But that need to win, it didn't start in Hollywood. Jose was born in Havana, Cuba. His father was a professional soccer player and his mother a national swim champion who'd earned herself a spot in Cuba's Sports hall of Fame. Success ran in the family, and Jose wasn't about to be the exception. When he came to the US As a teenager, he didn't have money. He worked as a dishwasher. While putting himself through college. According to the LA Times, he bulldozed his way to the top, earning a scholarship for swimming and then quickly rising through the ranks of prestigious accounting firm until just three years in, he was named its president. Jose's motto, according to a close friend, was simple. I'm a winner. He had the lifestyle to prove it, too. Limos, expensive outings, lavish homes. He was smart, driven, and ruthlessly efficient. And once he had power, he made sure to flex it. Kitty, his wife, had her own ambitions too. But after marrying Jose young, those dreams faded. The family came first. At least that was the story. Behind closed doors, it was Jose's ambition that came first. Kitty's role became clear. Support him, raise the boys, and help uphold the image of perfection. That image, it turned out, required a lot of upkeep. And Jose's drive for success, that was something that he impressed on his sons. They were athletic, photogenic, well dressed, and always under the watchful eye of their parents. According to the Los Angeles Times, Jose enrolled his boys in competitive swimming, soccer and tennis, the bar was always high and failure was not an option. So while these may have been fun activities for other kids, the pressure Jose put on Lyle and Eric transformed into something more disturbing. Eric and Lyle's cousin Diane Hernandez told DATELINE about Jose's unorthodox methods for getting his sons to swim. He would take their heads and push them underwater until they started panicking and needed out. He would let them up again. When asked what Kitty was doing while her husband held her sons underwater, Diane said, Kitty never intervened. I mean, if Jose did it or said it, there was no questioning it. Absolutely none. She became like his right hand man in enforcing things. A former swimming coach told the Los Angeles Times that Eric and Lyle kept to themselves. They were standoffish, quiet, always on edge. Jose showed up to every swim meet not to cheer, but to critique. After one disappointing race, Eric's coach recalled seeing Jose drag him out of the water, yelling at him in front of his teammates. And then, like nothing happened, he put an arm around him. That moment stuck with the coach. He was so completely overbearing, he told the LA Times. It had the opposite effect. Eric had so much less self confidence because everything he did was never good enough. As the boys grew older, swimming gave way to tennis. But nothing else changed. Jose was still on the sidelines. The literally. At the Menendez family home in New Jersey, neighbors remember hearing the sounds of balls slamming onto the court as early as 6:30am Jose barking instructions and pushing the boys as far as he could. Their coach, Bill Curtin, told the LA Times that even during private lessons, Jose would watch from the house and interrupt mid instruction to tell Lyle what to do. Sometimes Lyle would explode in anger, hitting balls across the court as hard as he could. And Eric? He struggled too. Even when he was ahead in a match, a single mistake could unravel him. The idea of failure was unbearable because at home, mistakes weren't allowed. And it wasn't just sports, it was everything. According to abc, Kitty and Jose monitored who their sons could date, who they could be friends with. When Lyle didn't have the grades to get into Princeton on his own, Jose made a donation of $50,000. And when Lyle got caught up in a plagiarism scandal his freshman year, Jose tried to make that go away too. He failed. Though Lyle was suspended and later withdrew, scandals followed Lyle and Eric back at their home in Calabasas too. According to the documentary Truth and Lies, the brothers fell in with a crowd of wealthy, reckless teens. And their idea of fun was Robbing their neighbors homes. In one burglary alone, they stole goods valued at more than $100,000. Eventually, they got caught, arrested and charged. Alicia Hertz, one of the Menendez's family neighbors, told ABC what happened next. Joe when he found out that the children had been arrested for the things they had done in Calabasas, he was upset that they had gotten caught. The main message was, how stupid of you to get caught. You're like sheep that follow. You're not leaders. And he was ashamed by them getting caught because I think Jose thought that life was about winning and probably it was not as important how you got there. Not why would you do this? Not I'm disappointed in you. Just you should have been smarter. Because in Jose's world, success was everything, and morality, that was optional. So he did what he always did. He paid the problem away. According to Truth in Lies, Jose personally visited each family the boys had robbed, asked for a number, wrote checks on the spot, and that worked. The boys got probation, no jail time, just another near miss swept under the rug. That's also around the time Eric was court ordered into therapy. That's how he met Dr. Ozil. But according to Ozil's ex, Judolin Smith, even that was performative. She told Vanity Fair that Jose and Kitty paid Ozil extra to falsify Eric's progress. They signed off on therapy hours he never completed. That was the Menendez way. Control the narrative, protect the brand, keep everything, everything looking perfect. So yes, Jose was demanding, controlling, harsh. But to the outside world, it looked like tough love, Like a man who wanted his sons to succeed at any cost. But was that really enough to explain what came next? For years, the answer seemed to be no. That was the story so many people told that Lyle and Eric were spoiled, that they didn't want to live under their father's rules, that they wanted the money, the freedom, the power. But eventually that narrative cracked too. Because buried beneath the pressure, the control and the shame was something darker, something uglier, something a family secret kept hidden. Still, a few people saw flickers of the truth. This episode is brought to you by Netflix. Everyone is telling her she dreamt it. But in the woman in cabin 10, Lo Blacklock is determined to uncover the truth in the gripping new thriller coming to Netflix October 10th. Kieran Knightley plays a journalist aboard a luxury yacht who witnesses a crime she can't unsee. Adapted from Ruth Ware's best selling novel, directed by Simon Stone. Watch the woman in Cabin 10 only on Netflix on October 10th. Imagine fast hydration combined with balanced energy. Perfectly flavored with zero artificial sweeteners. 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Just the screams and the daddy, don't hit me, daddy, don't you know that kind of stuff? That's Alan Anderson, Lyle and Eric's cousin, speaking to Oxygen. He lived with the Menendez family for a time as a child and even then, before the arrests, before the confessions, he remembered what it felt like to be in that house. He remembered how Jose would take the boys into a private room at the end of the hall. How the kids knew when the door was closed. You stayed quiet. You didn't ask questions. You just listened. And for years, those screams stayed behind closed doors. For years, no one talked to each other about what was really happening in that house. Not Eric, not Lyle, not Kitty, not any of them. But eventually, silence gave way. And when it did, when the courtroom doors finally opened, it didn't happen. In a whisper, Court TV broadcast the trial live. According to Vanity Fair, people lined up outside the courthouse as early as 4am just to get a seat. The Menendez trial had become something bigger than a murder case. It was theater, spectacle. When Eric took the stand, the world was watching. And he didn't deny what happened. He admitted it. Mr. Menendez, you've heard the testimony of your brother that you and he killed your parents on August 20, 1989, did you not? Yes, we did. And then came the question that would split the case in two. What do you believe was the originating cause of you and your brother ultimately winding up shooting your parents? Um, me Telling you. Tell. Telling what? Me telling Lyle that. You telling Lyle. What was it you telling Lyle? About something that was happening. My dad. Okay. My dad. Your Honor, can I ask a leading question? If you don't ask my dad. Wait one second, Mr. Hannibal. Okay, let me ask. No, no. He was in the process of answering, so there was no need to ask him. Can you answer the question? Yes. Okay. It was you telling Lyle. What? That my dad had been molesting me. When you watch the video of this moment, you can feel the courtroom go still. Just air and breathing. Did you want something from your brother? Is that why you told him? I just wanted it to stop. It wasn't a declaration of innocence. It wasn't a plea for mercy. It was a disclosure. One that had been buried for years. And suddenly the story the world thought it understood. Two spoiled boys, a $15 million estate, a brutal shotgun ambush. Wasn't so simple. This wasn't just about money. It was about trauma. Silence. And the question no one wanted to touch. What if they were telling the truth? That's where we're headed next. Next on Truer Crime. Thanks so much for listening today. Before you tap away, I want to leave you with one quick action item. Something small but meaningful you can carry with you after the episode. We talked a lot today about athletics and how central sports were to the lives of Lyle and Eric. And so I wanted to turn that focus into support for a cause that's doing really amazing work. It's called the army of Survivors. And honestly, I was completely stunned to learn that nearly 13% of student athletes experience sexual violence in sports. That's absolutely heartbreaking to me. I'm sure it is to you, too. And it's exactly what the army of survivors is working to change. They offer resources, education, and advocacy aimed at protecting athletes and reminding them that they always have a right to safety. They've played a big role in getting new legislation passed, and they also created something called the compassionate Coach program, which is this trauma informed training that helps coaches create safer, more supportive spaces for their athletes. If you want to learn more, get involved or donate to support their work, head to thearmyofsurvivors.org let's stand with survivors and work towards a future where every athlete is protected. As always, you can keep up with true or crime on Instagram X threads and bluesky, truercrimepod. And if you haven't already, make sure to subscribe to the Official newsletter@truercrime.substack.com to stay in the loop. If you want to follow along with me personally, I'm on Instagram and TikTok. Alicia Stanton and I also write a weekly newsletter called Sincerely Celicia where I share my favorite recommendations and unfiltered thoughts on politics, culture and life. You can read past issues and sign up to get that straight to your inbox at Sincerely. A full list of sources and action items related to today's episode is available on our website@truercrimepodcast.com True Crime is created, hosted and written by me, Celisia Stanton, and is a production of Tenderfoot TV in association with Odyssey. Additional writing, research and production by Olivia Hussingfeld. Executive producers are myself, Donald Albright and Payne Lindsay. Editing by Liam Luxon, artwork by Station 16, original music by Jay Ragsdale and makeup and vanity set mix by Dayton Cole. Thank you to Oren Rosenbaum and the team at uta, the Nord Group, and the team at Odyssey. For more podcasts like Truer Crime, search Tenderfoot TV on your favorite podcast app or visit us@Tenderfoot TV. Thanks for listening. Thanks so much for listening to this episode of True or Crime. If you want an ad free version of the show, plus early access to every episode for this month's case and tons of other great Tenderfoot podcasts, you can subscribe to Tenderfoot plus at tenderfootplus.com or on Apple Podcasts. It's a small way to support the work and it makes a big difference. Limu Emu and Doug Limu and I always tell you to customize your car insurance and save hundreds with Liberty Mutual. But now we want you to feel it. Cue the emu music. Limu Save yourself money today. Increase your wealth. Customize and save. We save. That may have been too much feeling. Only pay for what you need@liberty mutual.com Liberty Liberty Liberty Liberty Savings Very underwritten by Liberty Mutual insurance company and affiliates. Excludes Massachusetts in 2013, the murders of Claudia Maupin and Chip Northup left their town of Davis, California paralyzed in fear. The victims were an elderly couple. It was up close and personal. Even more chilling, the prime suspect was a teenager. I think the word is psychotic from 48 hours binge the full series 15 inside the Daniel Marsh Murders now on the free Odyssey app or wherever you get your podcasts.