My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark - MFM Minisode 262

Episode Date: January 17, 2022

This week’s hometowns include a dad misjudging the mph and a badass great-grandma in a hostage situation. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We at Wondery live, breathe, and downright obsess over true crime, and now we're launching the ultimate true crime fan experience, Exhibit C. Join now by following Wondery Exhibit C on Facebook and listen to true crime on Wondery and Amazon Music. Exhibit C. It's truly criminal. Today is the season four premiere of Tenfold More Wicked on Exactly Right, and we're sharing the new season trailer at the end of this episode. Written, researched, and hosted by Kate Winkler Dawson, season four of Tenfold More Wicked is called Tiger Woman. It's about a southern girl turned Hollywood chorus girl turned killer with a hammer. Set in 1920s Los Angeles, this historical true crime story is about a terrible marriage

between two habitual liars that ended in murder. Learn more about this infamous Hollywood scandal through the murderer's family and find out why she might have turned from chorus girl to killer. Enjoy the trailer for season four, then head over to the Tenfold More Wicked feed for episode one out today, and new episodes are every Monday. Subscribe to Tenfold More Wicked on Amazon Music, Stitcher, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you like to listen. Goodbye. Hello, and welcome to my favorite murder. We're going to talk like this the rest of our lives. It won't be irritating at all. You'll love it. This is your reality now anyways. Hey, what's up? What's up? You want to go first this time? Sure. Oh, we're filming this if you want to watch it on film. Go for it. Oh, yeah.

We make up on. Watching us read and do weird voices is the best part. That's right. Okay. I'm not going to read you this subject line of this. It gives it away. Hello, beautiful people and pets. Let's jump in. When I was 18, I got my first job working in an electronic store as a cashier. If you've ever worked retail, you know you have some interesting conversations with customers passing through. This was definitely no exception. Any weird conversations come off the top of your head from working retail? Well, this isn't retail, but similar. When I worked at a grocery store, like a health, natural health food store, and I was a checker, which was so much fun. There would always be these couple like hippie people, older

hippie people who would come in and yell at you not to scan their groceries because they thought the laser from the scanner was poison, but they were always, which is fine. Fucking everyone has a thing, but they were so mean. They were never nice about it. It was like a weird thing that the few people who did it were always yelled at you beforehand. They seemed to be filled with fear. Probably. They could be right. They were just like, please don't radiate. They were not right, or everybody would get what they thought they were going to get, like involved and scanned. You know, that's funny because I was like, I asked you that question, but I wasn't going to be able to answer it myself. But when I worked at the GAB, there was a security guard

that worked there before I worked there, but somebody else told me the story that they had just gotten those kind of infrared scanners to do the price tags. They'd just gotten some new ones, and they held the gun up and did a like QQ at this security guard who was probably in his 20s, and he burst into tears because he thought it was going to make him go blind. And it was this kind of like, sorry. It was very dramatic moment. They're like, just keep that pointed down. People get upset. If you make a security guard cry, that's a special kind of terror, you know. It's also a special kind of test that maybe that security guard needs to go into a different line of work. Sir, it's going to get worse than this. It's going to get scarier than this.

Everything gets worse and scarier. That's just the rule of life. As you get older. Okay. So, going back into this retail story, I don't remember what the older creepy bald man was buying as I was ringing him up, but he kept complimenting my auburn hair and asked if it was natural. I smiled, said yes, and continued to try to get the transaction over with. He then proceeds to educate me on organ donation, how it works, and that people are on medication for the rest of their lives so their bodies don't reject their new donated organ. I thought it was a weird thing to talk about, but I just smiled and asked if he had a reward card with us. It's a great conversation changer. I was just going to say, you're at a cocktail party.

Somebody asked you a weird question. You're like, yeah, I'm not sure. Do you have a reward card with us? That's your new get out of a conversation free card. Because they'll just cut their eyes will kind of go in circles and you just walk away. Yeah. He then pauses, stares at me with his, I live in my mom's basement eyes and says, do you know why I'm telling you about all of this? I say no. He replied, because I want your hair, but having to take medication the rest of my life so my body doesn't reject it is too much of a hassle. He then paid for whatever he was buying for me to have a good day and was on his way. I had security walk me to my car for a while after that. Good times. I want your hair. Anyway, stay sexy and always tell creepy guys your

hair color isn't natural, Kelly. I want your hair is like the creepiest saying or statement. I want your hair, but I don't want my body to reject it like it's a liver. Like I thought this through so hard. This isn't metaphorical. This is literal. This is I want you to know how much I'm thinking about taking your basically your scalp. Yeah, I thought through the steps of this and it's not worth it, but I think you should fucking know and know I don't have a rewards car. Yes, but I think I should freak the fuck out of you because I'm a weird pervert that's trying to scare you for my own pleasure. Thanks for shopping at Radio Shack. What the fuck? What the fuck? Oh, good. Good, good, good. Life is good. Life is normal. It's so beautiful. It's really average.

It's really average and boring and normal. Okay. Mysterious 90s murder photos found in evidence room. Oh, just starts. Hello. First off, want to thank you for keeping me company as I walk to work every weekend as I lose my mind in the throes of my forensic psychology master's degree. Hell, yeah. This may be long, but it's definitely worth it. Onto the story. I used to be an intern at my local sheriff's office in the suburbs of Chicago when I was in high school. This person is maybe the coolest fucking person. They're doing it high school before moving to the UK. I worked with the crime scene investigator and the evidence custodian, both of which were the loveliest ladies on the planet and made that time incredibly special. We were cleaning out the

evidence room, oh my God, and came across an unlabeled box with random items in it. One of the items was a stack of photos that were marked with a date from the mid 1990s on it. The photos were taken in a random field and seemed to be capturing the police digging up a human torso. Of course, this is rural Illinois where really nothing like this happens. We could not find the case file to figure out any of the details. A few weeks later, I was listening to MFM and one lady at a live show stood up and told a hometown about a hotel called Bohemian in Lily Lake where a trucker went missing and was dismembered before being buried around the area. The murderer was the hotel owner and he kept the body parts in the hotel's fridges for the next few weeks before disposing of him. Only

when the dogs came to sniff the area out was his body found. I was obviously in shock because the details matched the photos perfectly. Ooh, I emailed the detective I interned with and she confirmed that the details matched and ironically her mom was on the jury. What? Me being the delightful person I am, I told my family about this amazing coincidence over Christmas dinner. To my great grandma and grandma's dismay, they used to frequent the Bohemian for dinner every week in the 90s and did not know why it had been shut down. Ooh, sorry for ruining your appetite. Thanks for everything you do. My fiance and I spent the first few months of our relationship in lockdown together and bonded over your podcast. I knew he was the one immediately,

but his hearty laugh at your jokes sealed the deal. Stay sexy and do not ruin Christmas dinner with stories about dismemberment, Caitlin. She's staring into the eyes of her great-grandmother, like guess what? Like that great-grandma has seen a lot of shit and you just ruined her Christmas dinner. She's been through two wars likely, several wars, but that's an unbelievable coincidence that someone's hometown from a live show basically got them to get all that whole case together. That's amazing. It's also really worrying that like there's an unlabeled evidence. I mean, I guess that the guy probably got tried or whatever and so it's not like it's cold case, but let's get organized, guys. Let's get some people in there that love to go to staples by

those kind of like those accordion files. Let's just get, let's not have it look like my junk drawer in the evidence room. Those home edit ladies who come into like famous people's houses and make their fucking pantry look amazing. Let's do that for a police department. It's kind of what they do on murder squad for cold cases. That's true. Verbally. Okay. The subject line of this email is the time I jumped out of a moving vehicle because my dad told me to. Hi, all. I love you guys and I was listening to this week's mini-soad story and now that you guys are apparently telling stories about near-death vehicle incidents, I have a story to share. This happened about 12 years ago. I was 15 and it was the middle of the summer. My family was living in a small town in British

Columbia, Canada. And it was, thank you for that. Much needed, much appreciated. And it was a hot day, perfect for a float down the river. Me, my three sisters and my dad piled into our minivan with our respective floatation devices and headed down to the next town over to float the wide, slow-moving river that brought people from all around the area to lounge in. Now, something to know about my family is that we are an unlucky, accident-prone bunch. My father especially is a forgetful guy on top of the unlucky streak and something he forgets often is to fill up the car with gas. Amen. Hi, me right here. I've done it so many times. I've run out of gas before. It's so embarrassing. Okay. I've run out of gas trying to get a parking spot in San Francisco.

Oh, no. Yeah. And I had the AAA guy come and just bring me, like, can again. He's like, fuck you. He's like, get your shit together. Okay. This day was no exception. We were only about 10 minutes into our 40-minute journey when our dad realized that we were nearly on empty and we weren't going to make it much further. He had slowed down a bit and you could see that a gas station was coming up in the distance. Thinking on his feet, my dad said to me and my older sister, girls, we aren't going that fast. So jump out onto the grass so you can. Sorry. This really hit me the first time I read it. How insane it is. Girls, we aren't going that fast. So jump out onto the grass so you can help me push the car

to the gas station. Oh, girls. Girls. Now, being a very trusting 15-year-old who at this point in life still believed that my dad knew everything and wouldn't ask me to do anything remotely dangerous, I enthusiastically agreed and we opened the sliding door of the van. My older sister was the first to jump, landing pretty gracefully on a patch of grass. I was next, but due to going second, I managed to miss the grass completely and fell legs first onto the cement and loose gravel of the road, barrel rolling down the road a few meters. Can you imagine the person behind them? Do, do, do, do, do. Suddenly two fucking teenagers out of a van plunge themselves out. Clearly in peril. Clearly they can't stay in that van anymore because it's a life or death

emergency. Holy shit. Okay. Okay. This is so hilarious. I don't remember it all too well at this point in my life, but I remember my dad suddenly stopping the car and hearing my younger sisters in the back seat of the van wailing as they all thought I'd been run over. Oh my god. My dad ran over to me to find me miraculously not run over, but very banged up and covered in a road rash. After gathering me up, we managed to roll the van to the gas station where my dad bought a package of Band-Aids and a Coke to say sorry for his misguided direction and nearly killing me. It turns out we were still going around 30 to 40 miles an hour. No, that's fast. That is very fast. Which if you are wondering is too fast to jump out of a moving vehicle.

Now, you might be wondering, did this stop the trip and did you still go flow down the river? Why yes, curious reader. We did continue on our journey. The cold river felt really good on my wounds and we had a great time regardless. Yeah, you can't ruin the trip for everyone just because no, no, if there's three sisters or four sisters. Yeah, multiple sisters. Yeah, you're, you're outloaded. You're still going to that river. Thank God it's not saltwater. My dad did have some explaining to do. However, when we got home and my mom saw the state of my legs that were almost completely raw from road rash and bruising. I looked for a couple of weeks and had hideous legs for the rest of the summer. 12 years later, I still have scars, LOL. Oh, my God. Right.

My dad feels awful about this and because of it, I like to remind him every now and then how he asked me to jump out of a moving car once to which he wences and asks me not to remind him. Stay sexy. You don't gotta fucking make that request, dude. Sorry. No, you really don't. Sorry. Stay sexy and maybe take a second to question your father's advice every once in a while and maybe just don't jump out of moving cars. Becca, P.S., please come to Canada on tour if we ever get out of this hellhole of a pandemic. We'll do our best. Yeah, we will. Oh, my God. That is so funny. Yeah. I need more bad advice from parents that you trusted and then never trust it again, please. Yes. What event can you realize your parents were just regular people and not all

knowing, like, all controlling masterminds of the universe? Yeah, like, didn't know everything. Oh, my God. But going 30 to 40 miles now. It's not like they're still moving and he's just trying to keep it going, keep it rolling. Yeah, like 10 miles an hour or under. Maybe that's acceptable. But wait till you're slowing down enough so that you think you might not get to the gas station. It's almost like he wanted to get weight out of the car so it would actually make it to the gas station. But he told them it's because he needed to push them. But the car was moving fine. It's almost like he was just trying to get a bunch of things done at once. And he was just like, here's one of the things the timing doesn't really matter. And it's like, no, the timing

of this part was actually crucial to everything at once. Oh, my God. It's so funny. It's good. Okay. All right. This one's badass. Great grandmother story. I didn't do that on purpose, but here we are. Nice. My great-grandmother, Sally, it's S-A-L-I, but then she tells me it's pronounced Sally, was an OG badass. She ran her own catalog business in Germany in the 1920s and 30s and raised two kids while her husband was hiding in Switzerland. Eventually she escaped the Nazis by posing as a nun and made her way with the entire family to the United States. Unbelievable. Wow. I just read an amazing book. It's a novel called The Nightingale, but it's basically about occupied France. And it's like, holy shit, what people had to do.

So frightening. It's amazing. So frightening. But the main story I want to tell you took place in September 1970, a lawless time when planes were hijacked on the reg. My great-grandma was on a flight from Zurich to New York when it was hijacked by members of the Popular Front for the liberation of Palestine. Their plane, along with two other hijacked planes, were rerouted and landed in the Jordanian desert. After one night in the desert, the hostages were transported by the hijackers to a hotel in the capital where they were kept for several more days. As family legend has it, my great-grandma would not take shit from the hijackers. She constantly complained about the cold and the sand and that the food tasted bad and that her hotel room wasn't nice

enough. Apparently, the hijackers couldn't handle her bitching and let her go in one of the first rounds of hostage releases. What a great, what a great tip. Totally be fucking annoying and they want to get rid of you. Slightly risky, but maybe those squeaky wheels, you know. In the end, after days of international diplomatic talks, all of the 300 hostages were freed and the only death was one hijacker. I'm so proud to be named after my great-grandmother, a true survivor and badass who knew the power of a loud voice and a bad attitude. Stay sexy and don't stop quetching, Hannah. Don't stop quetching. I love it. Never stop quetching. That's amazing. Okay. Looking for a better cooking routine? With meal planning, shopping and prepping handled,

Hello Fresh has you covered. Hello Fresh makes home cooking easy and affordable so you can stay on track and on budget in the new year. Hello Fresh meals are convenient, seasonal and delicious. Stay cozy all winter long with classic comfort foods available weekly. While I stop with just dinner, now you can enjoy Hello Fresh's expanded menu of quick lunch solutions, weekend brunch, simple side dishes and amazing desserts. Karen, January is going to be my month for Hello Fresh. I am so sick of takeout. I miss cooking so much. I haven't lifted a knife or a pan since early fall, so I can't wait to get back in the kitchen and Hello Fresh makes it so easy and also makes it so that my food tastes good,

which is hard to do on my own. It gives you everything, everything you need. So get up to 20 free meals with purchase plus free shipping on your first box at hellofresh.ca slash murder20 with code murder20. That's up to 20 free meals plus free shipping on your first box when you go to hellofresh.ca slash murder20 and use code murder20. Goodbye. What makes a person a murderer? Are they born to kill or are they made to kill? I'm Candice DeLong and on my new podcast Killer Psyche Daily, I share a quick 10-minute rundown every weekday on the motivations and behaviors of the criminal masterminds, psychopaths and cold-blooded killers you hear about in the news. I have decades of experience as a psychiatric nurse,

FBI agent and criminal profiler. On Killer Psyche Daily, I'll give you insight into cases like Ryan Grantham and the newly arrested Stockton Serial Killer. I'll also bring on expert guests to dive deeper into the details, share what it's like to work with a behavioral assessment unit at Quantico, answer some killer trivia, and even host virtual Q&As where I'll answer your burning questions. Hey Prime members, listen to the Amazon Music exclusive podcast, Killer Psyche Daily, in the Amazon Music app. Download the app today. Subject line is hometown fucking hooray mashup. Here we go, yo. In August, the Caldor fire started between Pollock Pines and Lake Tahoe in California. Before it was 100% contained, it burned over 221,000 acres. And my entire family

has lived in South Lake Tahoe since before I was born 43 years ago. With very short notice, my sister and her husband were the first of the family put under mandatory evacuation. Two days later, my brother and sister-in-law, my mom and myself were evacuated. And then in parentheses, it says we all live on the same street. Well, that's kind of awesome. My boyfriend and I packed up my mom and all of our beasts and headed to a hotel just outside of the evacuation area. Nobody in the history of anybody has ever thought, you know what would be fucking awesome? Locking myself up at a tiny hotel room with my mom and my boyfriend and two dogs and three cats for a motherfucking week. Good times. But I digress. When we were allowed back home,

our town was covered in homemade banners thanking the firefighters for saving our town. Oh, you're crying. And they got me. Everyone was honking and waving to each other, and it was impossible not to cry and feel so much love for our community. The following week, I started radiation for the cancer on my vocal cords. I went alone to my first treatment and I was a little scared. That is until one of the radiation technicians came out to get me. I stood up when she called my name and she smiled when she saw my t-shirt and said, Oh, you're a murderer. No, I knew I was in good hands then and there. So big shout out to the fire crews who saved my hometown from burning down and to the amazing staff at the Tahoe Forest Cancer Center for treating me

like a friend and not just another patient and to my now fiance who proposed the day we were allowed back home. Oh my God, I just love this email. Sorry. So much great shit's going on here. Sidebar, my fiance knows nothing about podcasts. In fact, he calls them broadcasts. Bless his heart. I love it. Broadcast. He does, however, know how much I love MFM and the t-shirt I was wearing to treatment that day was a birthday gift from him. Stay sexy and be fire ready and fucking fuck cancer. Oh, now she her. Oh my God, that was beautiful. Isn't that a good one? Yeah. Yeah, that's a lot. That's a lot of good stuff in there. Thank you, Anna. Oh, I have one more. Fight that cancer. Yeah. Hell yeah, girl. Wrap it up. So awesome. Okay, this one's called

near death experience slash meet cute question mark. And there's there's some bummers in this, but I swear it turns out positive. Love you all in the pod. Here's my story. I was in an abusive relationship through my first few years of college that I really felt I had no way out of. And it isolated me from the people in my program. I promise this is not a sad story. I heard about an opportunity to study abroad in Vienna at the summer of 2019. These opportunities came up all the time. But for some reason, this one really stuck with me and I knew I had to go. I was a ceramic student and I was firing the last kiln of the year before finals. I was partnered with this guy, I'll call him John, who I had classes with but never spoken to.

Because he was cute, my then boyfriend was jealous of him. And I didn't want to exacerbate any of his abusive tendencies. Again, this story has a happy ending. I was very shy and timid, but John was making polite conversation as we loaded the kiln and asked me what I was doing that summer. I told him I was going to Austria on a study abroad trip and he said he wanted to go to I let him know that I'd been planning this for a year, but he should try to email our mutual professor to see if he could join the program. To my surprise, there he was at the airport the day we were leaving for Europe. I didn't know anyone else in the program. So we connected on the way there on the various layovers. I shared an apartment with six other girls in the program.

So I got pretty close with them and John, whose apartment was a few blocks away. My classroom was in the next building for my apartment. So John would come over every morning before class with espresso and a pastry for me. He and I would were both pretty big partiers. So we were always the most hungover and would wallow in self pity and coffee together as we walked around the city with our class. The alcohol in Vienna was very cheap and very smooth and could be bought at the L.D. on the street level of my apartment building. This perk really turned on me one afternoon. After class, John and I somehow ended up splitting a bottle of what we assumed to be vodka called corn with a K. Neither of us like the band. Yes. Neither of us ever really figured

out the German liquor labels. My roommates joined us eventually and we were talking and laughing, but this is the last thing I remember. In the midst of a blackout, I sat on the sill of the open window in my shared apartment's tiny fourth floor European IKEA kitchen. There was no screen or preventative measure on the window to keep the inhabitants from falling out the window of the fourth floor apartment. I came out of my blackout very suddenly with pain in the back of my knees, the sound of distance screaming and nothing but cold Vienna air underneath me. I quickly realized that I had slid out of the window and the only thing keeping me from falling four stories in a foreign country onto my head was the strength of my knee pits. John grabbed me by the ankles

and yanked me back into the kitchen with so much force that I hit the refrigerator on the other side of the room. I began to laugh in pain and drunken fear, which I quickly realized was not the vibe. The other six people jammed into this tiny kitchen had looks of horror on their face. You're laughing so hard right now. It's just so much. It's a lot. It's the most intense email, maybe. Yes. I found out later that I'd thrown my head back laughing and lost my balance and the group thought I for sure had fallen to my grizzly death. Then it goes. Anyway, John ended up being the love of my life. I broke up with my use of boyfriend over the phone while still overseas and moved out of our apartment when I got back. Yes. Three years after this trip, John and I are

still together coming up on the second anniversary of me moving in with him. He's unfortunately saved my life several more times on the same trip. He pulled me out of the way from being hit by a box truck that I had drunkenly walked in front of and will probably continue to save me from myself for the rest of my life. These stories make me sound like I have a problem, but I was in college and actually after listening to you both for the last six years, I realized that drinking seven days a week was not nearly as cute as I thought it was. I did sober October this year for the first time with John and a few of our friends, something I never thought I would be able to do. Now I barely drink maybe one night a week and I haven't blacked out in several years

when it says a bigger accomplishment than it probably should be. Hey, man, we all have a struggle. I mean, look, I've been at that place where it's like, oh, yeah, I've stayed in. I've stayed in reality for a consistent amount of time. It's a victory. It's a true victory. Any little victory. Y'all have been my ear through some of the worst times of my life, making me laugh through it all. You've changed my life in more ways than you could ever know. Stay sexy and don't sit on the fourth story windowsill in the blackout or do because you might find the love of your life and everything bad might change for the good and she her. Oh, I love it. Also, the other reason I was laughing so hard is because there was a party that we had once and my friend Dave loves to bring

it up. My boyfriend at the time, Dave Anthony, a co-host of the dollop. If you listen to the dollop, it's a great podcast. It was his apartment with art and he was roommates with our other friends. They were having a party, so we were all up on the roof, but you know those San Francisco roof parties. You're literally on a roof with no barrier. So you could ostensibly just walk off the roof and fall off. Yes. And I was the girl that was so drunk at the party that everyone was convinced I was going to fall off the roof and they were every time I would go within five feet, they'd be like, Garrett, Garrett. It just reminds me of the same thing where you inside your little drunken kind of half blind world take it easy. But then she actually almost fell out the window.

She was holding it by it's like when you're when like in caper movies when they're trying to hide from the villain and they just like hang by their fingers from outside the window. She was doing that with her fucking little meep meepits. And so in a way, there are times when she has saved herself. That's right. That's a beautiful thing. Oh, what an intense story. Send us your stories, please. We fucking love them. They're gems, all of them. So many great emails. Thank you all. And yeah, try to save yourself by your knees and stay sexy and don't get murdered. Goodbye. Elvis, do you want a cookie? She was a chorus girl, a bathing beauty. That's all well and good, but that would not have been my choice is one to marry. I'm Kate Winkler Dawson, a true crime

author and the host of 10 fold more wicked on Exactly Right. And our fourth season set in 1920s Los Angeles is about a Southern girl turned Hollywood chorus girl turned killer with a hammer. She'd been with them since she was 14. She was very insistent that they were meant to be together for life. This season of 10 fold more wicked is about a terrible marriage between two habitual liars. It was a relationship, I think that was unhealthy for her, very unhealthy for her. He was very much a moving target. Either he got in trouble or his old troubles caught up with him and he exited stage left. Was he kind of a ladies man? Yeah, I think he was stuck on himself. She was very protective of him. And she didn't want to share him with anybody else.

He was hers. There are a lot of secrets in that family, and they were not about to tell each other. It's about secrets that swirled around one of the country's most important families in the 1920s. My grandmother was to be protected from the truth. He knew that I knew some things. What I'm trying to say here is still water runs deep. It's about a terrifying car trip that only two out of three out of three passengers survived. She played on Clara's fears that fed into the paranoia, all of the things that were part of the demons that Clara had, and she turned her into a weapon. When they got back in the car, Clara said, if you tell anybody about this, I will kill you. And it's about finding out the truth. Was she a psychopath? It's a mystery,

but maybe you'll be able to find more answers. A lot of stuff in the story doesn't seem to add up. Yeah, a lot of secrets that they don't know. There seems to be a lack of a moral compass. What a slime ball. I'm Kate Winkler-Dawson, and this is season four of Tenfold More Wicked. Season four of Tenfold More Wicked is now available on Exactly Right. Subscribe now on Stitcher, Apple Podcast, or wherever you like to listen. This has been an Exactly Right production. Our producer is Hannah Kyle Crichton, associate producer Alejandra Keck, engineer and mixer Steven Ray Morris, researchers J. Elias and Hailey Gray. Send us your hometowns and your fucking arrays at My Favorite Murder at gmail.com.

And follow the show on Instagram and Facebook at My Favorite Murder and Twitter at My Fave Murder. And for more information about this podcast, our live shows, merch, or to join the fan cult, go to MyFavoriteMurder.com. Rate, review, and subscribe!