Mind of a Serial Killer - SERIAL KILLER: Jeff Davis 8 Pt. 2

Episode Date: April 16, 2026

In this episode, Vanessa and Dr. Engels conclude their investigation into the Jeff Davis 8, the unsolved murders of eight women in Jennings, Louisiana, and the corruption allegations that shattered public trust. As more victims are found, suspicions of a serial killer, police cover-up, and law enforcement corruption deepen, leaving families desperate for answers. If you’re new here, don’t forget to follow Serial Killers & Murderous Minds to never miss a case! For ad-free listening and early access to episodes, subscribe to Crime House+ on Apple Podcasts. Serial Killers & Murderous Minds is a Crime House Original Podcast, powered by PAVE Studios 🎧 Need More to Binge?  Listen to other Crime House Originals Clues, Crimes Of…, Murder True Crime Stories, Crime House 24/7, and more wherever you get your podcasts! Follow me on Social Instagram: @Crimehouse TikTok: @Crimehouse Facebook: @crimehousestudios YouTube: @crimehousestudios To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This is Crime House. They say trust is like a mirror. You can fix it once it's broken, but you can still see the cracks in the reflection. Broken trust can occur between friends, romantic partners, and colleagues. And those cracks can be overlooked. They can simply move on with their lives. But when trust is broken between those in charge

and the people they're supposed to protect, things can get more complicated. Sometimes that level of betrayal is so vile and so deadly, it's impossible for anyone to feel safe again. In the early 2000s, that's what happened in Jennings, Louisiana. After a string of mysterious deaths, the people of Jennings knew they were in grave danger. But when the violence continued and dark secrets came to light, all hope was lost, and justice was never served.

The human mind is powerful. It shapes how we think, feel, love, and hate. But sometimes it drives people to commit the unthinkable. This is serial killers and murderous minds, a crimehouse original. I'm Vanessa Richardson. And I'm forensic psychologist Dr. Tristan Engels. Every Monday and Thursday, we uncover the darkest minds in history, analyzing what makes a killer.

Crimehouse is made possible by you. Please rate review and follow serial killers and murderous minds. To enhance your listening experience with ad-free, early access to each two-part series, subscribe to Crime House Plus on Apple Podcasts. Before we get started, be advised. This episode contains descriptions of drug use, sexual violence, and murder. So please listen with care. Today we conclude our deep dive into one of the most notorious serial murder cases the Deep South has ever seen, the Jefferson Davis 8, a string of brutal killings

targeting vulnerable women in Louisiana. Their deaths were intertwined with the level of law enforcement corruption so staggering, it became nearly impossible to separate the crimes from the system that was meant to stop them. As Vanessa goes through the story, I'll be talking about things like the psychological impact of potential police corruption on a community, the long-term effects of a lack of true justice and what it can be like when someone finally uncovers the truth. And as always, we'll be asking the question, What makes a killer?

By 2007, four women in Jennings, Louisiana had been found dead. Loretta Chasson, Ernestine Patterson, Kristen Lopez, and Whitney Dubois. Each victim's remains had been found either in a canal or on the side of the road. But only Ernestine's death was officially considered a homicide, because unlike the others, who showed no signs of physical injury, Ernestine had sustained a fatal knife wound. In addition, she was the only victim who didn't have any known direct ties to local drug dealer and alleged sex trafficker, Frankie Richard.

Frankie was known throughout Jefferson Davis, the parish where Jennings was located. He was at the center of the town's dark underbelly, operating out of a motel known as the Boudreau Inn. Despite his criminal enterprises, Frankie never got in serious trouble with the law, For instance, he and his niece had been arrested for Kristen Lopez's death, then promptly released. A lot of people thought this was because a good number of Frankie's clients were members of the Jeff Davis Sheriff's Department. So far, only one officer, Sergeant Jesse Ewing, had tried to bring forward evidence of police corruption, but he was fired shortly after, which meant the scourge of evil continued to spread throughout Jennings.

By the spring of 2008, 23-year-old Laconia Muggy Brown was searching for a way to stop the violence. Muggy had close ties to Frankie Richard. He allegedly trafficked her, and she was one of the last people to see Loretta Chasson alive at the Boudreau Inn. She was also one of the last people to see Ernestine Patterson alive. In fact, Mugge's cousin Lawrence and his friend Byron had been arrested for Ernestine's murder, but their charges were eventually dropped. Suffice to say, Muggy was at the center of the web, and in May of 2008, she became even more entangled. Like many of the women in her circle, Muggy had served as a police informant before. Now she started trying to help authorities solve the recent string of murders. The full details of what she told them are unclear, but she was paid $500 for her help.

It seemed like a win-win situation. until Muggy started telling people close to her that she thought the police were plotting to kill her because she knew too much. And by the end of May, she made a point of telling her family how much she loved them. It seemed like she was saying her goodbyes. And there wasn't enough time for anyone to help her.

On May 29th, a Jennings police officer was driving down a long back road, which led to the department's shooting range. It should be noted, Jennings PD was different from the Jeff Davis Sheriff's Department. The shooting range was the only thing located at the end of the road. So Jennings' officers were basically the only ones who ever drove on it. As the officer made his way to the range, something caught his eye. The road was flanked by open fields on either side, so he easily spotted a body on the shoulder. He pulled over and realized it was a young woman,

and she was dead. The officer could tell the woman had been murdered, and the killer likely tried to conceal evidence because not only was her throat cut, but someone had poured bleach all over her body. Pretty soon, she was identified as muggy Brown. Investigators officially ruled her death a homicide, making her just the second victim to receive that classification. Where a body is found can be very telling. There's a road with restricted access or access primarily by law enforcement, and that's not necessarily a random disposal. site. Getting there requires either knowledge of that road's existence, the authority to be there without raising suspicion, or both. And that narrows the pool of people who could have placed her

there considerably, and that's significant. We can't know for certain whether this was a message, but it's reasonable question to ask. Given what we do know, the disposal site could be interpreted as a form of witness intimidation, and if it was a message, it wouldn't need to be explicit, in a community that was already watching closely, the location alone would speak loudly enough. But let's play devil's advocate for a moment. If people are interpreting this as evidence of law enforcement's involvement, then leaving a body on a road associated with them would be one of the worst strategic choices they could make. They understand evidence better than anyone. They also know how to conceal it better than anyone.

So why would they leave a body where one of their own would like? find it and report it. That draws attention directly to them rather than away from them. So another alternative is that the location was chosen out of familiarity. In a small community like Jennings, knowledge of secondary roads or restricted roads isn't necessarily exclusive to law enforcement. And when you consider that the other victims were callously disposed of in the elements, someone may have used that road simply because they knew of it and not necessarily because they were making a statement. And alternatively, for those who do believe that it was intentional and it was a message, then maybe the message wasn't for the community. It was for law enforcement itself.

And given what we know, we can probably come up with a few hypothesis as to why that might be. What are your thoughts on Muggy's apparent fear leading up to her death? I think it would be very easy for certain individuals or even law enforcement who had, or anybody who had something to gain from Muggy's silence to frame that fear as paranoia, whether it was labeled as drug-induced or mental health, but her fear appears to have been grounded in something very real. Whether she's being intentionally targeted or not, her friends and acquaintances were dying around her. That is true. She was among the last people to see them alive. She had been speaking to police about what she'd witnessed, and law enforcement no longer appeared to represent safety. Her fear doesn't appear to be

paranormal in the clinical sense. It appears to have been a very real and understandable response to everything that was happening around her and to her. Well, whoever left Muggy's body there had intentionally chosen a road used almost exclusively by police, and it ensured that law enforcement would be the first to find her. Her loved ones, as well as other victims' loved ones, along with members of the public, were horrified by the idea that the killer was taunting them. And that wasn't all. Because of Muggy's fear leading up to her death, her family believed the police were behind it. It was clear that local law enforcement was losing their grip on the situation. So other agencies stepped in. The Louisiana State Police and the FBI joined the case.

On paper, it looked like a genuine effort to solve the crimes. But even with all that help, the violence continued. On September 11, 2008, just four months after Muggy's murder, another woman's badly decomposed body was found in a dry canal outside Jennings. Because of the level of decomposition, it took months for the woman to be identified as 24-year-old Crystal Che Benoit Zeno. Like the majority of the victims before her, Crystal had reportedly been trafficked by Frankie Reischard prior to her death. But Frankie was never treated as a suspect, and beyond that, investigators didn't have much else to go on. They found no evidence at the scene, and the medical examiner wasn't able to determine the cause of death. So let's talk about evidence for a moment. Sometimes its absence is a

reflection of the environment or the timing of when a body was discovered. Temperature, climate, exposure to the elements or wildlife, all of that can affect a medical examiner's to not only identify the body, but to determine a cause of death. But we now have multiple women found in canals or exposed to the elements and in conditions that suggest possible concealment patterns. And that's psychologically significant. From my perspective, we're seeing what appears to be a pattern, similar methods, similar disposals, similar victims. And more significantly, these women were connected to each other. And that pattern alone, the connections between them, in my mind, opinion makes it difficult to treat each case in isolation. So in my professional opinion, if an FBI

profiler was pulled on this case, a good one, they would likely begin examining these together. What do you make of the fact that bleach had been poured over Crystal's body in that canal, in that, in that ditch? Could this have been because her body was left in a dry canal as opposed to one where her body would decompose faster, like in the water? And also, what do you think that might suggest about the killer's mind and mentality? I'm really glad you asked this question because it's a detail that I've been thinking about since you walked us through it. And to really answer it, we need to know why the bleach was used in the first place, and we simply don't know why. But what we can't say is that it appears deliberate. Bleach isn't something most people carry around with them unless they know

they're going to need it or they work regularly with it. Offenders usually choose disposal sites for a reason. Often it's practical, like concealment. In earlier cases, canals have offered that. Like we talked about, water accelerates decomposition, and wildlife can also affect evidence, which can make it harder for investigations to determine the cause of death. So if the canals were previously being used

because the elements offered concealment, then it is possible that now, because it's lacking water, that the bleach is a substitute for that. But many offenders believe bleach will destroy forensic evidence, tying them to a scene, but in reality it rarely eliminates everything, and forensic testing can often still recover usable evidence. But another possibility is that the bleach itself carried some symbolic meaning for the offender, which could explain why they didn't just default to a canal with

water. But whatever the intention, it suggests a level of confidence in their ability to control the situation and avoid consequences. At that point, the victim has been completely dehumanized, and the offender is not treating them as a person, but as someone they feel entitled to dispose of and to demoralize. Members of the community believed Crystal had been murdered, and that whoever was behind it had intentionally covered their tracks, which could mean they were gaining confidence,

and that was a horrifying thought. As the community struggled to process another loss, tragedy struck again. This time, the victim was the most vulnerable yet. Brittany Gary was already entangled in Jennings' dangerous underworld. She struggled with drug use and had been forced into sex trafficking. Because of that, she had close ties with several of the other victims, including her cousin, Kristen Lopez. Brittany had also been living with the most recent victim, Crystal Zeno, before Crystal

disappeared. Despite how much she'd seen in life, Brittany was just 17 years old when she went missing on November 2, 2008. She left her family's house to run a quick errand and was never seen alive again. When she didn't come home, her family reported her missing. They also took matters into their own hands and searched the neighborhood for her. Eventually, other community members joined in. People refused to give up hope of finding her. They kept searching for two weeks until November 15th,

when someone discovered Britney's remains on the side of a gravel road. The decomposition was so bad she could only be IDed through a tattoo and dental records. So Brittany is younger than the other victims, like you said, and that's worth exploring because why would she be targeted? Now, in general, there are many reasons why an offender targets younger victims. One is opportunity. They often target whoever is most accessible, and in a community where people are connected through the same social networks, that can include younger individuals who happen to be within that circle. Another factor can be her vulnerability.

Younger victims may be seen by an offender as easier to manipulate, more accessible. They're easier to control or isolate. Particularly if they're already living in unstable circumstances or navigating environments where adults hold a lot of power over them. That's an option for grooming. But you have to also consider motivation. What is the motivation in targeting her? And in this situation, Brittany had connections to other victims. that likely played a role.

She was Kristen's cousin for one, and that alone can give her proximity to the same risks. She may have been targeted for what she knew, who she was connected to, or what she may have witnessed. She had been living with Crystal, like you said, immediately before Crystal

disappeared. So in that context, her age may have been completely incidental to why she was targeted. For the Jennings community, the death of a child was the last straw. The city wanted answers. This time, law enforcement would be forced to act.

And in the process, they only stirred up more chaos. By November of 2008, six women and one teenage girl in Jennings were dead. When the remains of Brittany Gary, the youngest and most recent victim, were found, the public was in an uproar. Arrests had been few and far between, and charges never stuck. Even though state and federal authorities had joined the investigation, law enforcement refused to say whether they believed a serial killer was at work. Of course, the police also never brought up the most troubling theory that the killer was one of their own. In the wake of Brittany's death, investigators took a step they hoped would signal progress when Jeff Davis Sheriff Ricky Edwards finally made another public statement.

The last time he addressed the public, he received a ton of backlash for, suggesting the victim's quote-unquote high-risk lifestyle was the reason for their deaths. And this speech didn't go much better. This time, Edwards said he couldn't be sure they were dealing with a serial killer or a, quote, serial dumper. People were taken aback. It seemed like Edwards was once again minimizing the victim's lives and talking about them like they were disposable. I always say language matters.

And the language authorities use in situations like this matters a great deal because it shapes how the public interprets both the victims and the investigation itself. When someone as high as the sheriff describes victims as having a, quote, high-risk lifestyle, it can unintentionally shift attention away from the harm that was done to them and toward judgments about who they were as people. And that kind of rhetoric can also influence public trust. families and community members may begin to feel that the victims are not being taken seriously, which can create frustration and skepticism about whether the investigation is being pursued with the urgency it deserves. There's also a practical consequence. Investigations often rely on the cooperation from the community. And when investigations stall, they need people in the community to come forward with tips and information or things they may have witnessed.

So if the public believes authorities are dismissive or minimizing, the situation, people may be less willing to engage with them. And in this case, they may already be less willing, given their reputation. And how authorities communicate can have real effects on public confidence and grieving friends and families and the investigation itself. After this incident, Sheriff Edwards tried to course correct. He made another public statement, this time referring to the offender as, quote, forensically smart, because they understood how to conceal evidence so that investigators couldn't tell how the victims died. That didn't do much to fix things.

People were only becoming more convinced that law enforcement wasn't invested in the case. They waited in fear for the next crime. But weeks passed, then months, and it started to seem like the nightmare had ended. Although that didn't mean people had stopped thinking about it. The deaths remained at the front of everyone's minds. Even though there hadn't been any new victims,

there also weren't any new leads. The killer could still be walking among them, and many still believed that person might be a member of law enforcement, or somebody closely tied to them. Then almost a year after Crystal Zeno's body was found, someone deeply enmeshed in the Jennings underworld shared a theory of her own. Nicole Geary was one of the women who Frankie may have trafficked for a long time. Not only that, but her own cousin, Terry Geer, the Jeff Davis jail warden allegedly coerced Nicole into sex while she was incarcerated. Nicole had cooperated with federal investigators a few years before, and when that case fell through, she was cast back into the shadows.

But once again, Nicole didn't want to remain silent. Except this time, she wasn't just blowing the whistle on corruption. She told her family that she believed a police officer was going to kill her. The situation was eerily said, similar to what Muggy Brown had said before she was found dead. And just like Muggy, Nicole had long served as a police informant. We talked a little bit about informant relationships in episode one, but they're built on vulnerability. Someone typically enters that arrangement because they're often experiencing legal pressure, financial instability, or physical danger, and that narrows their

options. In small communities, the relationship between law enforcement and their informants tends to become informal over time and boundaries can begin to blur, which removes whatever structural protections might exist otherwise. Secrecy is built into the arrangement by design, which means there's very little recourse if that arrangement becomes exploitative or if the terms shift. And when an informant gains knowledge about the people that they're working with or they're working for, that knowledge can become a liability rather than a form of protection, particularly if the case they cooperated on falls apart because the informant no longer has utility or leverage, and now they're left exposed on multiple sides. Nicole's loved ones knew what a risky position she'd always been in. And then on

August 16, 2009, Nicole's fears spiraled into terror when she vanished. Three days later, on August 19th, her family officially reported her missing. Sometime that same afternoon, police sat down with Nicole's family to try and piece together her movements before she disappeared. However, just 30 minutes after their conversation wrapped, a local construction crew found a young woman's remains

on the side of the road just over the parish line. It was Nicole. Because of the location, Nicole was the only victim found outside Jefferson Davis Parish. Two months after her body was found, there were, once again, no arrests or progress in the case. But the task force claimed they'd collectively logged more than 48,000 hours investigating the eight deaths, interviewed roughly 500 people, and followed over a thousand leads. They said many of those leads resulted in arrests for unrelated crimes, like drug trafficking and burglary.

And at one point, they even revisited Frankie Reischard as a potential suspect. but they never brought charges against him. However, even with all that effort, the task force had nothing to show for itself when it came to the actual deaths. So in a surprise move, they turned to the community for help. Authorities launched a website where people could submit tips. They also announced a reward of $85,000 for information that helped lead to a legitimate suspect. It was a pretty staggering amount of money. Four times the average annual household income in January,

household income in Jennings at the time. So there are pros and cons to large monetary rewards. It can offer reassurance to the public that they are looking into it with the seriousness it deserves, but at the same time it can also cause doubt for some because it signals that they still lack any leads of their own. Rewards can increase the number of tips that they receive, but they don't necessarily improve the tip quality. Money is a powerful motivator, and people who genuinely know something are more likely to come forward when there is incentive to do so, but it can also generate false leads from people who believe that they can construct a plausible enough story to collect the reward. The money has to outweigh the perceived risk of coming forward, though. And this is a community where

witnesses may fear retaliation or where law enforcement itself is suspected of involvement. And no dollar amount automatically resolves that fear. There's also a credibility issue for investigators. A high volume of tips requires significant resources to evaluate and to distinguish reliable information from opportunistic claims. That becomes its own investigative burden, and Jennings is not a large town. So it's certainly been known to be successful, but it's often something that comes at a cost. For some of the victim's families, the website and reward offered a small measure of reassurance that someone would finally be held accountable. but not everyone felt that way. Brittany Gary's family said they were skeptical of the task force's sincerity.

According to her uncle, investigators hadn't even contacted their family since the day Brittany's body was discovered. To them, it felt like the police already knew where to find answers and were choosing to turn a blind eye. So despite the new reward, trust in Jennings' law enforcement was still at an all-time low. until December 2009 when Sheriff Ricky Edwards made another shocking statement. He announced that every member of law enforcement who'd been involved in the investigation

across all agencies would be required to submit their DNA for testing against evidence collected from some of the crime scenes. For the first time, it seemed like investigators were openly acknowledging a possibility that many in the community had considered for years that the person, they were looking for was hiding behind a badge. A mother is on trial for allegedly luring her own son-in-law to his death, and her search history may have given away everything. This is Vanessa, the host of Crime House 24-7.

Right now in a Utah courtroom, 60-year-old Tracy Grist is standing trial for murder, accused of masterminding a family plot to kill her son-in-law, Matthew Rostelli. Prosecutors say Matthew was lured for. from California under the pretense of picking up his wife and kids. What he didn't know, he was walking into a trap. Within seconds, he was shot seven times, three of them in the back. And months before the killing, investigators say Tracy sent a text to one of her daughters that read, quote, Matt made it so I want to kill him. He straight up lied, I'm going to kill him, end quote. Hear the rest of that story and never miss another on Crime House 24-7,

where we cover breaking true crime news daily. Follow Crime House 24-7 wherever you listen to podcasts, so you never miss a story as it breaks. Hi, I'm Ashley Flowers, and if you're like me and grew up watching America's Most Wanted and reading Nancy Drew, then hi, you're a crime junkie. And I bet that passion for solving mysteries never went away, which is why we've assembled a team of reporters

to dig deep into all the cases we still obsess over. Each Monday, my best friend Brit and I will bring you a case that you won't be able to stop thinking and talking about. So join us by listening to Crime Junkie wherever you listen to podcasts. In December 2009, Jefferson Davis Sheriff Ricky Edwards announced that every task force member connected to the investigation would be required to submit DNA samples. It marked a dramatic shift in the case, and for many in Jennings, it felt like the first real acknowledgement. that the killer could be someone in power. That announcement also revealed something the public hadn't known until that moment, that investigators had collected suspect DNA from at least one of the crime scenes.

Until then, officials had never confirmed that any usable forensic evidence existed. Sheriff Edwards refused to share details about the DNA they had, like where it came from or how strong the sample was. As of this recording, that information remains a mystery. However, Edwards did reveal something else. He said he understood why people were suspicious of law enforcement, especially since Muggy Brown and Nicole Gehry had told their families the police were after them. Edwards framed the mass DNA testing as a way to put those suspicions to rest once and for

all. To further emphasize the point, he said he'd submit his own DNA as well. It seems like once again he's trying to restore institutional trust. and the impact depends on whether it's received as genuine or performative. And given that he has a pattern now of disparaging the victims, avoiding admitting that these are serial homicides and rather referring to them as serial dumpings, this response is going to be evaluated against his history.

And from what we know, this is his first attempt at transparency in the years this has been happening. And him submitting his own DNA is worth noting psychologically. it's a calculated move that personalizes the gesture and signals accountability at the highest level. But again, was it motivated by genuine transparency or by the need to manage public pressure? Is it performative or is it genuine? That's something only he or people on the inside can really answer or time will really tell us. But what it does signal, regardless of motivation, is that the investigation had reached a point where ignoring communities suspicion was no longer viable. Sometimes institutional transparency is principled and sometimes it's

strategic, but oftentimes it's a mixture of both of those things. How might officers themselves respond psychologically to being asked to submit DNA in a high-profile case like this? I would say for many officers, a request like this can trigger a very visceral reaction because of how strongly professional identity is tied to their role. Law enforcement culture tends to emphasize a very clear boundary between who they are as officers and suspects. There's a line there. And officers are trained to see themselves as the people investigating the crime, not the people being investigated. So when they're asked to submit DNA, even as a routine investigative step, it can feel like that boundary is being challenged to some of them. Psychologically, that can provoke

defensiveness or frustration or anger because it threatens that sense of professional legitimacy and reputation. In highly cohesive departments, pride and group identity can amplify that reaction. We talked about that group identity in episode one. Officers may interpret the request as an implication that someone within their ranks could be responsible also, and that can feel like a breach of trust within the group. And I saw versions of that dynamic as well during my time working in corrections, there were times when authority figures who are used to enforcing rules suddenly find themselves subject to scrutiny or oversight. And the response can be surprisingly reactive to that. So all that to say, this was likely less about the DNA test itself and more about the perceived

shift in status from investigator to potential suspect. And of course, there are those who have no problem complying because they value the integrity of their jobs. People in Jennings seemed happy with the news. The families of the victims anxiously awaited the results of the Task Force DNA testing. In their eyes, even if there were no matches, at least it offered a level of closure. Either investigators would finally have a suspect, or the community could stop wondering if the person responsible was prowling the very streets they'd been sworn to protect. But that closure never came.

Days, weeks, and months went by, and the task The task force never publicly commented on the outcome of the DNA testing. As of this recording, it's unclear whether it was even completed or what investigators may have found. It was a major source of frustration and disappointment. At the same time, it coincided with a changing tide in Jennings because no more deaths occurred afterward. Even though the truth of the DNA testing remained a mystery, people couldn't help but wonder if the authorities had discovered a killer among them and covered it up. But if that was true, there was nothing anyone could do

except refused to forget everything that had happened. The media soon dubbed the victims the Jeff Davis Eight. News and theories continued to swirl. But even though billboards had gone up, advertising the tip line and reward money, no more credible leads came in. A year after Nicole Guillory's death, Sheriff Edwards admitted in an interview with the New York Times

that he didn't believe the case could be solved unless the killer made a new mistake or a new witness finally came forward. Then in 2012, he left the department. So we already talked about reasons why the police often turn to the public and how monetary rewards can be useful and the reasons why they can't be useful.

But public police, especially late in a case like this, typically signal that the investigations moved to being witness dependent, much like the sheriff had indicated it would be. It can be beneficial because time may have changed the dynamics surrounding potential witnesses. People who are once afraid to speak or were loyal to someone who was involved or involved in the same social circles may feel differently after so many years. Relationships change. People move away. People pass away. Conflicts emerge or they dissipate and influences change.

Also there have been changes in leadership and authority and local law enforcement. that could have made people more open to coming forward. Essentially, what someone was unwilling to say at the time of the crimes may feel safer to disclose after enough time is passed. There's also the possibility that someone has been carrying information privately for this long, and they're now ready to unburden themselves. But at the same time, there are other complex factors to consider in this case, starting with the fact that this is happening after a series of perceived institutional failures,

one after the other, beginning with the sheriff's lack of transparency, his poor communication and victim-blaming language, and then a performance of accountability by pledging mandatory DNA testing for all of the officers, including himself, with no transparency about that or follow-up, that alone can actively confirm suspicion rather than soften it, and that could negatively influence the public's interest. If the agency couldn't follow through on something as visible as officer DNA testing after everything else, after being publicly put out there like that. What reason do they have to believe a new tip would be handled any differently now? By the time Sheriff Edwards was gone, it felt like law enforcement had largely stepped back from

actively pursuing the case. For the victim's families, it became clear that if the truth was ever going to come out, it might have to come from someone outside the system, especially when a journalist named Ethan Brown showed up in Jeff. Davis. A few years after Nicole's death, Ethan started digging into the murders on his own. He filed public records requests and combed through whatever information he could get his hands on. At first, local authorities cooperated and sent him documents. Ethan made a lot of those records public, but he held back anything he thought could put a living witness in danger. Then in 2014, In 19, Ethan published the first of several in-depth articles about the Jeff Davis 8 on the blogging platform Medium,

and his writing immediately made a huge splash. Ethan introduced the story to a much wider audience. Soon, the whole nation heard what had happened in Jennings. A lot of the intrigue also had to do with the striking similarities between the Jeff Davis-8 case and the HBO series True Detective, which portrayed a fictional murder investigation in Louisiana, that involved a tangled web of corruption. But as the spotlight on the case grew brighter, Ethan's access to information went dark.

The authorities stopped honoring his requests. They refused to send him records, and when the law required them to do so, they either delayed things or set prices so high Ethan couldn't pay the necessary fees. At one point, Ethan says officials charged more than $2,000 for a single document, only to send him a version so heavily redacted, it was basically unreadable. Once again, it seemed like law enforcement was trying to hide something, but by that

point it didn't really matter, because fortunately, Ethan had already reviewed enough files and spoken to enough witnesses to understand the full scope of what had happened, including details that the authorities had never wanted the public to know. In 2016, 11 years after the first murder and eight years after the last, Ethan published his book, Murder in the Bayou, which offered readers a more in-depth look into the case with his own takes on what happened to the victims. He suggested that while law enforcement may not have been directly responsible for the killings, some officers could have helped shield whoever was behind them, especially if the victims knew too much about police misconduct. Ethan's work also cast renewed suspicion

on local trafficker Frankie Reischard. Three years later in 2019, Showtime released a documentary series on the case inspired by Eton's book. He appeared in the series, as did then-64-year-old Frankie who denied any involvement in the deaths. There are a few reasons

why someone who has been suspected for years might agree to speak publicly like that. One possibility is its reputation management. If someone believes, leaves their name has been unfairly tied to a crime. Participating in interviews or documentaries can feel like an opportunity to present their side of the story and try to reshape how the public sees them. But there's also a psychological dynamic. When a person has lived under suspicion without facing legal consequences, they may begin to feel increasingly confident. That sense of

safety can lower the perceived risk of speaking publicly, especially when, as Ethan has alleged, and I'm inclined to believe, Frank may have operated within a relationship of mutual leverage with some people in law enforcement or even higher than law enforcement. When information and influence run in both directions like that, it can create a situation where someone is quite literally protected, or at least confident that certain lines won't be crossed. Of course, agreeing to appear publicly doesn't indicate guilt by itself. People have many motivations for speaking to the media, but from an investigative standpoint, those interviews can also be valuable because they sometimes reveal inconsistencies, new details, or behavioral cues that weren't previously documented. This is why criminal defense attorneys will always tell you, do not speak to anyone.

So here's hoping that documentary was scrutinized by the right authorities. How common is it for offenders or high-profile suspects to voluntarily participate in interviews like that? It's more common than people might expect. And one great example that comes to mind is Robert Durst in the documentary The Jinks. His interview in that documentary is precisely what brought him down. And Chris Watts gave media interviews while his family was missing. Scott Peterson gave multiple interviews while he was actively under suspicion. And there are so many more examples.

At the core of those was an attempt to control the narrative and frame the story. This is either to avoid suspicion or to make them appear in a more positive light. Well, in March 2020, Frankie died of a suspected drug overdose. He maintained his innocence until the very end. And in the wake of his death, and despite widespread attention from the documentary, the authorities failed to name any new potential suspects. But that didn't mean others gave up. In July of 2020, an initiative called The Promise of Justice formally asked the federal

government to open an investigation into corruption and sexual abuse by long. enforcement in Jefferson Davis Parish. According to a report by the Associated Press, at least six women came forward, claiming they were trafficked or sexually assaulted there. As a result, the Sheriff's Department settled at least two related lawsuits without admitting wrongdoing. But the details of those settlements were never made public. After all these years, the truth of what happened to the eight women who lost their lives has never come to light. The victim's children are grown now. Many of them reached adulthood without ever knowing what happened to their mothers. They'll never stop wanting justice, and it's never too late to give them the answers

they've been waiting their whole lives for. If you have any information on this case, you can call crime stoppers at 1-800-222-tI-P-S or go to tips.fbi.gov. There's still an $85,000-a-counter. nobody is claimed, but of course the most important reward is closure for the eight victims' families. Thanks so much for listening to our deep dive on the Jefferson Davis 8. Serial Killers and Murderous Minds is a Crimehouse original powered by Pave Studios. Here at Crimehouse, we want to thank each and every one of you for your support. If you like what you heard today, reach out on Instagram at Crimehouse. And don't forget to rate, review, and follow serial killers and murderers.

Minds wherever you get your podcasts, your feedback truly makes a difference. And to enhance your listening experience, subscribe to Crime House Plus on Apple Podcasts. You'll get every episode of serial killers and murderous minds ad-free, along with early access to each thrilling two-part series. Serial Killers and Murderous Minds is hosted by me, Vanessa Richardson, and Forensic Psychologist Dr. Tristan Engels and is a crimehouse original powered by Pave Studios. This episode was brought to life by the serial killers and murderous minds team. Max Cutler, Ron Shapiro, Alex Benadon, Lori Marinelli, Natalie Pritzowski, Sarah Camp, Sarah Batchelor, Markey Lee, Sarah Tardiff, and Carrie Murphy.

Thank you for listening. A mother is on trial for allegedly luring her own son-in-law to his death and her search history may have given away everything. This is Vanessa, the host of Crime House 24-7. Right now in a Utah courtroom, 60-year-old Tracy Grist is standing trial for murder, accused of masterminding a family plot to kill her son-in-law, Matthew Rostelli. Prosecutors say Matthew was lured from California under the pretense of picking up his wife and kids. What he didn't know? He was walking into a trap.

Within seconds, he was shot seven times, three of them in the back. And months before the killing, investigators saw him. say Tracy sent a text to one of her daughters that read, quote, Matt made it so I want to kill him. He straight up lied, I'm going to kill him, end quote. Hear the rest of that story and never miss another on Crime House 24-7, where we cover Breaking True Crime News Daily. Follow Crimehouse 24-7 wherever you listen to podcasts,

so you never miss a story as it breaks. Thanks for listening to today's episode. Not sure what to listen to next. check out America's most infamous crimes hosted by Katie Ring. From serial killers to unsolved mysteries and game-changing investigations, each week Katie takes on a notorious criminal case in American history. Listen to and follow America's most infamous crimes now wherever you listen to podcasts.