Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - A Mother’s Deadly Obsession The Cruel Murder of Loara Tabárez in the Dominican Republic PART4 #56

Episode Date: January 31, 2026

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #nosleep #paranormal #creepy #truecrime #darkending #justiceforloara #emotionalfinale Part 4 brings the harrowing story of Loara Tabárez to its tragic conclusion. As the trial unfolds, shocking revelations about her mother’s twisted motives and years of hidden resentment come to light. Justice finally approaches, but the emotional damage left behind is irreparable. This final chapter captures the devastating aftermath of obsession, the pain of betrayal, and the haunting silence of a life stolen too soon. A chilling ending that reminds us real horror doesn’t need ghosts—sometimes, it lives in the people we trust most. horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, truecrime, darkending, justiceforloara, tragictruth, familydrama, realhorror, shockingtrial, maternalobsession, dominicanrepublic, realcase, betrayal, humancruelty, disturbingending, emotionalstory

When news broke that Elena had been arrested, San Francisco de Macoras practically exploded. The small Dominican city had already been on edge after Laura's murder, but this, this was gasoline on a fire that had been burning for months. Crowds poured into the streets. Protesters shouted through megaphones, waving homemade signs and banners demanding that Elena be tried and sentenced for what they believed was a cold, calculated crime. The tension was thick enough to choke on. For many, Elena wasn't just another suspect, she was the suspect. People whispered that she'd orchestrated the entire thing, that she'd used money and manipulation

to make a teenage boy and a dangerous ex-military thug do her dirty work. It didn't help that her arrest came alongside those two men, El Guachi, the alleged hitman, and Yario, the teenager who'd once confessed but later turned into the prosecution's golden witness. All three were slapped with preventive detention orders, three months in prison while the investigation continued. But those three months turned into six, then nine, then a full year. The process crawled forward like a wounded animal, and every extension only made the public angrier.

Then came the first twist, one that changed everything. Prosecutors suddenly pulled Yarell out of the main case. They decided he wasn't a criminal after all but a victim, someone manipulated by older, more dangerous adults. Overnight, he went from co-defendant to star witness. The entire narrative shifted. The press couldn't get enough of it. Local TV channels ran interviews with Laura's parents, her friends, her teachers.

Every one of them pointed a trembling finger toward Elena. They said she'd threatened Laura before, told people that the girl was ruining her daughter's life. They believed, without a shadow of a doubt, that it had been Elena who ordered the hit. And everyone feared the same thing, that her wealth and influence would somehow buy her freedom. And then it happened. After just nine months behind bars, Elena walked out of prison. Free. She'd paid a three million-peso bond, around $7,000 U.S. dollars at the time. The judge granted her conditional release while her trial continued, she couldn't leave the country, and she had to report to the courthouse every Monday. But to the people

of San Francisco de Macoros, that didn't matter. All they saw was a woman accused of masterminding a murder walking down the street in designer clothes. Outrage doesn't even begin to describe what followed. Protests erupted outside the courthouse. The air of the air of filled with chants and the sound of pots banging. People demanded to know how someone accused of such a brutal crime could buy her way out of a cell. Many shouted that Elena had bribed judges, prosecutors, whoever she needed to. Marches turned into all-night vigils, candles flickering in the humid Dominican air. They wanted one thing, for her to go back to prison and face justice. Each time Elena appeared in court, chaos followed.

Supporters and opponents clashed outside the gates. On one side, people holding photos of Laura, crying for justice. On the other, those defending Elena, saying she was innocent, a victim of public hatred. Standing firmly beside her was Maciel, her daughter. Always. She's my mother, Macyl told reporters, her voice trembling but defiant. I live for her. I've never disrespected that girl ever.

My mom didn't hate Laura, she only wanted to protect me. Her loyalty never wavered, not even during the trial in 2010. When she took the stand, she looked straight at the judges and defended her mother. Elena herself pleaded not guilty, claiming she hadn't even been in town the day Laura was killed. Her lawyers argued there was no physical evidence linking her to the crime, no fingerprints. no DNA, no witnesses who'd actually seen her at the scene. But the prosecutors had something else, Yariol's testimony. He described the meeting with Elena, the photo she'd shown him, the money she'd offered,

and how the plan unfolded. It wasn't just him, more than a dozen young people also testified, claiming Elena had threatened Laura multiple times, saying things like, that girl will disappear from my daughter's life, one way or another. Then came the bombshell about the phone call. Investigators said that on the day of her cousin's birthday, the day Laura vanished, she had received a call from Elena's phone. Forensic experts confirmed it through phone records. But Elena denied ever calling her. She swore she'd never spoken to Laura in her life.

Her daughter, Macyle, tried to explain it away. She said her phone had run out of credit that day, so she'd borrowed her moms to call Laura and apologize for not going to the party. I never, ever talked to that girl, Elena insisted in court. I never called her. She never called me. But people who knew Macyl laughed at that explanation. They said she would never let her phone run out of minute.

not Maciel, the social butterfly who lived glued to her screen. The judges weren't convinced either. They pointed out that the birthday wasn't even Loras, it was her cousin Anna Carinas, and if Macyl wanted to apologize, she should have called her, not Laura. The logic didn't add up. And neither did Laura's reaction that day, according to witnesses.

Whatever that call was about, it had left her shaken. On November 11, 2010, a full year after Laura's abduction and murder, the first collegiate court of Duarte province finally delivered its verdict. The courtroom was packed, buzzing with reporters, locals, and grieving family members. When the judge read out the sentence, the room erupted. Elena was found guilty. So was El Guachi. Each received the maximum sentence, 30 years. in prison. The court also ordered both to pay compensation to Laura's parents. Elana's fine was set at 5 million pesos, a bit over 9,000 U.S. dollars, while El-Guachi had to pay $3 million, roughly

$47,000 at the time. But even in victory, there was controversy. The ruling wasn't signed within the legal five-day period, it took three months. Lawyers on both sides are called it a serious irregularity, a tactic meant to delay the process. And while the sentence was official, Elena remained free on bail. Her appeal was pending, and until that process ended, she couldn't be taken back to prison. The prosecution begged the court to revoke her bail and lock her up, arguing she was a flight risk. But the request was denied. Once again, Elena walked free while everyone else fumed. Laura's family broke down in tears. People took to the streets again, furious that justice seemed so fragile, so negotiable.

But pressure can move mountains. Whether because of the relentless public outrage or because the appeals were finally exhausted, something shifted. In May 2012, the Penal Chamber of the Court of Appeals in San Francisco de Macoros upheld the conviction and ordered Elena back to prison. She was sentenced to 20 years behind bars. Meanwhile, El Guachi was already serving his 30-year sentence, not just for Laura's murder, but also for killing a transit officer named Sergeant Edward Raphael Valerio Martinez. Then, in October 2012, the case made headlines again. Elena's lawyers filed a habeas corpus petition, claiming her imprisonment was illegal because of procedural irregularities. The Supreme Court wasn't having it, they rejected the petition outright. That same month, tragedy struck again.

El Guachi, the man once described as a cold-blooded killer, tried to escape from prison. Along with four other inmates, he made a break for it, but the guards opened fire. Bullets echoed through the corridors, and when the smoke cleared, El Guachi was down, bleeding out. He died later that night at a hospital, never having served even half his sentence. Years passed. Every November, Laura's family held memorials. Her friends gathered at the local church, lighting candles, holding photos, and praying. Time dulled nothing.

But fate wasn't done with this story. In July 2021, the case took a dark new turn. Yari el Rosario Ramos, the same young man who had once confessed and then testified against Elena, was standing outside his mother's house chatting with his neighbor, a photojournalist named Ricky Garcia de Jesus, when a motorcycle pulled up. The rider didn't say a word. He just raised his arm and started shooting. Bullets tore through the air. Yariol hit the ground, wounded but alive. Ricky escaped without injury, though both were rushed to a private clinic. The attack was caught on nearby security cameras, the shooters face hidden by a helmet,

but despite clear footage, no arrests were ever made. People started whispering again. Was it revenge? A warning? A coincidence. No one could say for sure, but it added another sinister layer to an already cursed story. Then came November 22, 13 years after Laura's murder. Elena's defense team filed a new request, conditional release. They argued she'd served over half her sentence, maintained perfect behavior in prison, and deserved a second chance. The hearing was scheduled for December but postponed multiple times. Finally, in March 2023, the request was rejected.

Her lawyers appealed immediately. For months, the legal tug-of-war drag. on until March 14, 24, when the judges once again denied her freedom and confirmed that Elena must remain in prison until she served a full term. But the story didn't end there. On January 1st, 2025, while most people were still celebrating the new year, Yari el was attacked again. This time, it was broad daylight. Details were sketchy, but reports said he was hit multiple times and rushed to the hospital in critical condition. No one knew if he'd survive.

Even after 15 long years, the case of Laura Tabaris refused to rest. The community that had once marched for justice still hadn't let go. They continued organizing, holding vigils, demanding that Elena serve every last day of her sentence. To them, this wasn't just about Laura, it was about sending a message that money and power shouldn't be able to twist justice. But the country was divided. Some people still believed Elena was innocent, that she'd been framed, her reputation destroyed by rumors and political pressure. Others saw her as a manipulative woman who'd gotten exactly what she deserved. And then there were the mysteries no one could quite explain. The two assassination attempts on Yari El. The violent death of El Guachi

and rumors, whispered late at night, that two other people linked to the case had died under strange, never fully explained circumstances. It all felt like a shadow that refused to fade, haunting everyone connected to that November night in 2009. Even now, questions linger. Was Elena truly the mastermind, or was she a convenient scapegoat? Did Yari el tell the whole truth, or only the part he needed to survive? And how deep did the corruption in that small Dominican city really go? No one knows for sure. But what's undeniable is that Laura's story changed an entire generation.

It showed how fragile justice can be, and how collective anger, grief, and persistence can sometimes force the system to act. Fifteen years later, the name Laura Tabaris still echoes through the streets of San Francisco de Macoras. Her friends still visit her grave, her family still fights for her memory, and activists still use her case as a rallying cry for reform. Her death exposed dark truths about money, power, and the human cost of pride. And in the end, it became more than a tragedy, it became a symbol. Now that you know the story, every twist, every loss, every haunting coincidence, there's only one question left. Was Elena truly guilty, or did the system condemn an innocent woman to rot behind bars?

Maybe we'll never know. But one thing certain, Laura Tabara's name will never be forgotten. The end.