True Crime Campfire - Bound By Hate: The Murder of Rozanne Gailiunas, Pt 2

Episode Date: February 7, 2025

In last week’s episode, young nurse Rozanne Gailiunas was brutally murdered while her  young son slept in the room next door. Suspicion initially fell on both her estranged husband, Peter, and her new boyfriend, Larry Aylor. But evidence was thin on the ground, and the case went cold. Three years later, Larry was the target of a botched assassination attempt, but had trouble getting the police to take it seriously. No one connected this shooting to Rozanne’s death. Then, out of the blue, a mysterious woman called investigators and laid the blame for Rozanne’s murder at the feet of her menacing husband, Bill Garland. This mysterious caller turned out to be Carol, the elder sister of Larry Aylor’s wife Joy. And she said Joy was behind the whole thing. Join us for part 2 (of 3) of this twisty tale. Join Katie and Whitney, plus the hosts of Last Podcast on the Left, Sinisterhood, and Scared to Death, on the very first CRIMEWAVE true crime cruise! Get your fan code now--tickets go on sale February 7: CrimeWaveatSea.com/CAMPFIRESources:Open Secrets by Carlton StowersD Magazine: https://www.dmagazine.com/publications/d-magazine/1991/july/fatal-obsessions/Follow us, campers!Patreon (join to get all episodes ad-free, at least a day early, an extra episode a month, and a free sticker!): https://patreon.com/TrueCrimeCampfirehttps://www.truecrimecampfirepod.com/Facebook: True Crime CampfireInstagram: https://gramha.net/profile/truecrimecampfire/19093397079Twitter: @TCCampfire https://twitter.com/TCCampfireEmail: [e-mail]! https://true-crime-campfire.myspreadshop.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/true-crime-campfire--4251960/support.

Hello, campers. Grab your marshmallows and gather around the true crime campfire. We're your camp counselors. I'm Katie. And I'm Whitney. And we're here to tell you a true story that is way stranger than fiction. We're roasting murderers and marshmallows around the true crime campfire. In last week's episode, young nurse Roseanne Gailunius was brutally murdered while her young son slept in the room next door. Suspicion initially fell on both her estranged husband Peter and her new boyfriend Larry Ehler, but evidence was thin on the ground and the case went cold. Three years later, Larry was the target of a botched assassination attempt, but had trouble

getting the police to take it seriously. No one connected this shooting to Roseanne's death. Then, out of the blue, a mysterious woman called investigators and laid the blame for Roseanne's murder at the feet of her menacing husband, Bill Garvey. This mysterious caller turned out to be Carol, the eldest sister of Larry Ailer's wife, Joy. And she said joy was behind the whole thing. This is part two of Bound by Hate, the murder of Roseanne Gailunis. So back at the police station, Carol told Detective

McGowan her story. In early 1986, this is three years after the murder of Roseanne Gileunis, Carol's sister Joy had asked her for a favor. If a man called her up and asked to speak to Mary, Carol was to call Joy right away. Carol initially just assumed her sister was having an affair under a fake name. She didn't feel bad for Joy's husband Larry. She thought he was a jackass from the first day she met him almost 20 years ago. It was only later that Carol learned the caller was a self-proclaimed hitman named Bill Garland. Carol took a few calls for Mary, always brief and to the point, until one time Bill called up and told Carol she had a real nice voice and asked her out. Carol, who did not have a great track record when it came to decision-making, said, sure, and soon

they were dating. They got married soon after. And eventually, Bill told her that he had been responsible for the death of Roseanne Gailunis, Larry Ehler's girlfriend. When Detective McGowan pressed Carol about whether Bill had confessed to killing Roseanne himself, Carol clarified, All I know is he said, we did it. And according to Carol, Bill had recently forced her to help him blackmail her sister Joy. McGowan assumed this was about Roseanne's murder, but he was wrong. Last October, Carol said Bill needed money and decided to jack Joy around a little.

He was going to contact her and say that a girlfriend of one of the guys who they'd hired to kill Larry wanted $25,000 to keep her mouth shut. Wait. What? McGowan was stunned. Now, y'all remember in part one, of course, when Larry and his buddy got shot at while driving home from the farm, and the local police apparently found the whole thing too boring to investigate? Well, apparently, Bill Garland was now using this attempted assassination to ring more

money out of joy. Now, there's a lot of reasons to never hire a hitman, right? the main one being of course that killing people is a bad idea another one is that as we've seen plenty of times there's a pretty good chance your hitman is going to turn out to be a cop wear and a wire but if neither of those is enough to deter you think about this if the hit goes through then somebody you know is willing to kill people is going to have a hook in you for the rest of your life by the way like last time we're taking the direct quotes from carlton stowers book open secrets, which was one of our sources for this case. Okay, so blackmail plot. Initially,

Bill sent Joy a creepy note. I'm coming for a visit. I'm strapped for money. Think you could loan me $25,000? Would you and your son like to come visit me? The note was signed, Roseanne Gile Unis. Imagine you had somebody whacked and now you get a note like that. Joy, of course, freaked out. She'd originally been in touch with Bill three years earlier by a guy named Carl Nostka. According to Carl, Joy told him she wanted somebody scared. Now, y'all never get involved in scaring somebody for money, okay? Because it seems like nine times out of ten, the somebody's going to end up dead. Anyway, now that she was getting creepy letters from Roseanne, Joy was convinced that Carl Nostka was the one trying to blackmail her. So she called up Bill Garland and told him

she wanted Carl dead. Which was pretty ironic, Bill thought, seeing as how he'd sent the letter himself. Carl Noska had nothing to do with it. Bill thought this was hilarious, and he told Joy, sure, sure, I'll look into it. A few days later, he called Joy back. I found out what's going on, he told her. The note wasn't from Carl. It was from the girlfriend of one of the guys she'd hired to try and kill Larry. Bill didn't mention, of course, that he'd made up this woman out of thin air. Joy's reaction was the same. She wanted this entirely fictional, bitch killed. Toot sweet. And in case Bill needed convincing, she said the note threatened to expose his involvement, too. It didn't, Bill knew because he'd written it.

Oh, bless her heart. I know. For a few weeks, Bill had fun sending more creepy notes to scare joy. One said, I'm coming to visit soon. Think you need to have the same kind of rest I'm having, are Gailunez. Bill, you absolute scamp. I'm not sure you're supposed to have this much fun trying to blackmail somebody. Eventually, Bill told Joy he could have the blackmailer killed, but it would cost her $25,000.

What a coincidence. Despite being scared shitless by now, Joy tried to haggle. Since Bill was mentioned in some of the notes, too, he should pay half. She even rewrote the notes herself to add Bill in and sent them to him via her sister Carol. Okay, so that is a little funny. I have to give Bill that. I can just see her now, like, all right, that's not going to scare him. I'll add his name to it, trying to imitate the creepy handwriting.

And he's sitting there like, uh, I wrote those, you dumb ass. It's like a, you know, old school version of Among Us. Like, how do I get out of this one? I am the imposter, but I can't tell her that. How do I get out of this? It's just a little bit of a shenanigan, you know? if it wasn't about murder it would be it would be fucking hilarious you know it's a bamboozle it's just shy of a horseplay you know realizing joy wasn't going to budge on the money bill finally agreed and joy paid him twelve and a half

thousand dollars a couple weeks later he called her up and told her the job was done he thought the whole thing was hysterical he just made thousands of dollars for killing an imagining woman. God. Now, I know this is going to shock you, but at some point, things started to go sour between Carol and Bill. I know. I thought their love was eternal, too.

But now that the bloom was off the rose, Carol had realized he'd told her things that could get him in a whole lot of trouble. She'd become convinced he was going to kill her to make sure she didn't squeal. So she'd reached out to Detective McGowan. and squealed preemptively. The detectives listening to her story were dubious to say the least. It sounded bonkers, putting calm, classy Joy Ehler at the center of a web of intrigue and murder, and a couple of them had recognized Carol as someone who'd made a bunch of weird police

reports in the past and who was suspected of staging burglaries and small house fires for insurance money. Oh, wow, fun. What did your parents do to you, girls? Jeez Louise. Weird-ass family. Also, Carol's frenetic affact definitely suggested someone who was a few fry short of a happy meal. This was not a reliable witness.

They were shaking their heads, but then she mentioned something that perked up their ears. One of the things she and Bill had done to shake joyous, up, she said, was put a dead fish in Joy's mailbox. McGowan knew from Larry Ehler that Joy had actually found a dead fish in her mailbox, and it certainly wasn't public knowledge. Could there really be something to Carol's bizarre story? Carol was two years older than her sister Joy and had a rebellious hot-tempered streak that made her clash with her parents a lot growing up. Not all the trouble she got into was her

own fault, though. When Joy was six years old, she'd set the closet in an upstairs bedroom on fire. Oh, McDonald's triad. Hello. Carol would insist this was an accident, and maybe it was, but we've seen young kids deliberately start fires before. That's why it's part of the triad, animal cruelty, bedwetting past age six, and fire setting. Yeah. Anyway, once their parents put out the fire, a weepy joy said it was Carol who'd started the fire, and it was Carol who got punished for. for it. Oh, wow. After high school, Carol had begged her dad to pay for college, and then almost immediately dropped out. A couple years later, when Joy wanted to go to school, Henry Davis

refused to pay, having already been burned once. He was a millionaire by this time, and Joy's anger should have been directed straight at her skinflint daddy, but instead, she blamed Carol. After a seven-year marriage imploded, Carol was single with a two-year-old daughter. She asked her parents to help out. After all, they were more or less raising Larry and Joy's young son, Chris, while the two of them worked. But no dice. Her mom told Carol that two young children would be too much for their maid to handle. Yeah, take a minute to roll your eyes at that.

Carol's parents would eventually be so concerned for their granddaughter's welfare that they'd move her in and essentially raise her. as their own, but to Carol, that initial message was clear. Joy was the favored child and got all the special treatment. The timeline isn't quite clear, but those grandparental concerns might have been related to Carol voluntarily committing herself for psychiatric treatment in the 70s, and then having outpatient therapy for years afterward. She'd had problems with her mental health her whole life, and by the 80s, she'd recognized that her critical, argumentative relationship with her family wasn't helping one bit, and good

for her for realizing that, you know. For years, she only saw her family for a few hours over Christmas dinner, and then she stopped even coming to that. So she'd been surprised when Joy called out of the blue in January of 1986. What do you know about Larry? Joy asked. You know I don't like him, Carol said, I never have. This was evidently exactly what Joy wanted to hear. Can you come over? She said. As they walked around Joy's neighborhood, she filled Carol in on the drama in her life over the past few years. How Larry had left her for another woman, who had then been brutally murdered, and then he came crawling back. Carol had been so out of touch with her family that all this was news to her. Joy told her she'd become convinced Larry had killed Roseanne Gileunis, and that he'd kill

Joy too if she tried to leave him. Do you know somebody who can scare Larry? Joy asked. If he's afraid somebody might hurt him, he'd leave me alone. A couple weeks later, Joy told Carol she'd found someone herself and arranged the whole merry business. In his office, to test Carol's improbable story, Detective McGowan pushed his phone across the desk to Carol. All right, call Joy.

See if you can get her to talk about it. So Carol did. We've got a problem, she said over the phone. What are you talking about? Joy said. I'm very busy right now. I have people coming over for dinner. Joy, we've got to talk. Then there was a pause.

And Joy whispered, Is this about Larry? Yes, Carol said. I'll call you back later, Joy said. Now, there was nothing there that could cause Joy Ehler much trouble in a courtroom, but she'd sounded sketchy as hell. McGowan started to think Carol might be telling the truth, at least mostly. It was enough to justify setting up and recording a meeting between Carol and Joy.

The meeting would be at Jojo's restaurant. Carol would have a primary microphone in a sealed envelope on the table, and a backup in her purse. Four undercover officers were waiting outside. After Joy arrived, they'd come in and get seats close by. One of them had a briefcase with a hidden camera. McGowan and other detectives were outside in a van with the recording equipment. When Carol had been sitting alone for a half hour,

everybody started thinking Joy was a no-show, but then her red Porsche swung into a parking spot and she walked in to sit across from Carol. After a few minutes of Sister Lee Chit-Chat, Carol got down to business. Joy, I know what's going on. What are you talking about? Joy said. I'm talking about that woman out in Richardson and about Larry, the money, everything. Remember, Joy had involved Carol in the attempt to scare, i.e. shoot to death, Larry Ehler, but she had no reason to think Carol knew anything about the murder of Roseanne Guy Leunis.

She was immediately suspicious. Are you wearing a wire? She said. Carol got out of the booth and stood up. Do you want to frisk me? Hell no. I'm not wearing a wire. Joy told her to sit down. In response to Joy's unspoken question, Carol said, Bill told me. Why would he tell you something like that, Joy said. Joy, Bill and I are married, Carol said. It's wild that she didn't know that. Watching the feed from the hidden camera, McGowan could see the shock on Joy's face. What has he told you? She whispered. Everything, Carol said. don't understand how you could have gotten involved in such a thing. Believe me, Joy said. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't. You just don't understand what he did to me.

And then, right as things were getting juicy, a whole crowd of people came in and sat in the booth right behind Carol, laughing and talking so loudly that it was hard for the officers in the van to hear what the sisters were saying. Oh. And then it became nearly impossible because the microphone in the envelope malfunctioned, and all they had was the muffled, barely audible feed from the one in Carol's purse. Oh, my God. Out in the van, there was a lot of frustrated swearing. McGowan pressed his headset close to his ears and barely made out Carol saying,

Bill says you told him you had a partner, that you had to get some of the money from the doctor. That was a lie, Joyce said. I just told him not to buy some time. I needed time to get the money together. After Joy left, McGowan met Carol behind the restaurant. He said, you did a good job, but we may have to do it again. Like hell, Carol said. They did set up a second meeting, though, in a motel room where Carol said she was hiding out from Bill Garland.

The place was bugged from floor to ceiling, but Joy, much more suspicious this time around, gave them nothing. Nevertheless, the district attorney decided that what the police had gotten from Jojo's, met the bar for probable cause, and not long after she left home, Joy's car was pulled over and they put the old habeas gravis on her in a church parking lot. In the interview room, Joy was as cool as diamonds on ice, only showing a flash of anger when McGowan mentioned the recording they had of her talking to Carol. But she had herself under control within seconds. This was a tough broad. There wasn't really any question of her guilt. Joy, complaining about lawyers taking money that should go to Chris, said, I know what I did was wrong in that I'm going to jail. I should be punished, but not my son.

But see, Joy wasn't the only person that needed to go to jail. The investigators wanted Bill Garland. And if they found out someone else had been the one to actually kill Roseanne Gailunis, they wanted him too. McGowan repeatedly asked Joy if she'd help them get Garland, but she just launched into a rambling pity party about her crazy sister and her tight-fisted dad and her cheating husband talking a lot but saying nothing at all. It was obviously a calculated performance,

joy seeing if she could get out of the interview room without committing to anything. But she very clearly hated being in there and eventually she made McGowan an offer. You get me out of here and let me go home and get comfortable. Then come over with your tape recorder and we'll talk. I'll fix you a sandwich. I'll tell you.

the whole thing. And McGowan agreed. It was a big risk, but he thought that if Joy was helping them, the whole case would come together quickly. I don't think he really knew who he was dealing with yet. Joy was just saying whatever it took to get her out of that interview room. And McGowan's captain thought he was crazy. He thought that as soon as she got home, Joy was going to set about destroying whatever evidence was there. Overriding McGowan, he quickly started proceedings to get a search warrant for Joy's house. Officers had been following Joy home as soon as her boyfriend Jody Packer came to get her, and they were inside just minutes after Joy got home. Packer, a big guy with a high opinion of his own importance, was furious. His ex-wife was a judge, he ranted, he knew the law

pretty well. They were all going to lose their badges over this. They were all going to get sued. They even got on the phone and called the Dallas PD to report a break-in, then pointed his finger at McGowan, who'd just arrived. If you're smart, he said. you and your people get the hell out of here right now instead of going to jail. I guess being a judge's ex-husband does not, in fact, grant you vast legal knowledge. The people that are the loudest about knowing their rights are almost never the ones actually exercising them. The Richardson police had already called the Dallas PD to let them know what was happening, and when the Dallas officers arrived, all they did was help secure the scene.

Joy's concerns were more pedestrian. Now everybody in the neighborhood knows what's going on, she complained, looking at all the police cars outside. She asked to speak privately with the fuming Jody Packer, and afterward Jody was all sweetness and light with the officers. McGowan was certain she'd just come clean to her boyfriend about her involvement in Roseanne Gailunis's death, and Jody Packer apparently had no problem with that. Joy insisted she still wanted to help nail Bill Garland, and having made bail, she stayed free. Ultimately, Bill Garland voluntarily sat down with Detective McGowan in an interview room in Sulphur Springs, where he'd moved to stay with his mom.

He was a huge guy, 6'5 and 300 pounds, and he denied having anything to do with any murder, or even any blackmail. That was all Carol, he said. Crazy Carol was behind that whole scheme. He had nothing to do with it, Bill said. He'd never even spoken to Joy. McGowan knew he was lying. On the night Joy got arrested, Bill had called her, twice.

When he told Bill he'd seen the phone records, the big guy got pale and started slowly shaking his head. McGowan thought the man sitting across from him might still have the glimmerings of a conscience somewhere deep inside. Bill, he said, what happened to that woman? What that little boy went through? It wasn't right. I know, Bill said, then took a deep breath. Okay, here's what happened. One day, back in 1983, Bill's buddy Carl Nostka had come into his office and told him a friend of his wanted somebody followed and maybe scared a little. Bill said to pass his number on to the friend who turned out to be a woman who called herself Mary. She told Bill she wanted somebody killed. Bill told her that would cost her $5,000, half up front, half after.

Two days later, Bill got an envelope with $2,500, a photo of Roseanne Gile, Eunice, her address where she worked and the license plate of her Cadillac. This case is an endless chain of scumbags. Bill passed the details on to a shady auto mechanic, Brian Creeple, who told him he knew someone who would do the job. A week later, Brian told him it was done. Mary sent the rest of the money. Bill took his cut of $500 and passed the rest onto Brian. He had no idea who had actually done the killing. Some guy from Houston, he thought. Mary, who obviously was Joy Ehler, was so pleased with the manner of Roseanne's death that a week later she sent Bill another $500 along with a thank you note, which there is something about that that just chills me to my bones. A thank you note. There's such like sort of southern gentility about it, but with this absolute horror at its core. And you remember how Roseanne was killed. I mean, it was absolutely brutal. And she was just delighted about it, gave him a bonus. A thank you note to your hip man.

That's unbelievable. Unbelievable. That's joy. That's joy. Bill said he'd heard nothing else from Mary until 1986 when she'd called said she wanted somebody else taken care of. Bill laughed and asked if she was planning on killing everyone in Dallas. She said no, but there would be five more after this one.

Ain't that always the case? They always have a list after the first one. I know, yeah. Joy would later tell Carol, whose name was probably on the hit list, that this was just a bargaining tactic. She thought she could get a better deal if she bought in bulk. This is bullshit because when Bill told her the price had gone up to 10 grand, Joy didn't hesitate one second. She mailed $5,000 to him along with a photograph of Larry Ehler, places he often went, and descriptions of his various vehicles. Wow.

Once again, Bill got in touch with Brian Creeple. who told him he'd get in touch with his man in Houston, but dang. According to Brian, that guy had been killed by police. weeks later joy got in touch again and said she still wanted the job done she gave bill the number of someone who called herself miss mud her sister carroll who they'd communicate through from now on according to bill he passed this hit on larry to another buddy a guy in the construction business named joe thomas joy provided a map to larry's farm and told bill when he'd be there he got these two dumbass brothers to do it and they fucked up royally bill told mcgowan they went out there drunk and with nothing but a fucking 22 pistol they missed when mary called to ask what happened she was really pissed yeah and we gotta talk about how much they fucked it up because you know what a 22 like it's like these tiny little bullets and it's fine if you're like at close range but he was shooting at a moving truck like dude what's the hell. Not the proper tool for the job. No. Not at all. No. It was clear to

Bill that his only chance of avoiding heavy prison time was to help investigators get their pause on everyone else involved in Roseanne Gailunis' death. He wasn't arrested, not yet, because investigators thought if word got out, Bill was in custody, everyone else involved would scuttle off

into the shadows like cockroaches. It was easy to track down Joe Thomas, a Vietnam vet who was now frail and nervous, and he came into the police station with an air of resignation when he heard they were looking for him. He said Bill Garland told him a wealthy family wanted to kill someone who'd been sexually abusing their young daughter. Nice. Thomas asked two brothers who worked for him, Buster and Gary Matthews, if they'd be interested. They didn't hesitate. Sure they were. Buster and Gary were

two good old boys who, like the song says, had been in trouble with the law since the day they was born. Think of the Dukes of Hazard if they used meth and didn't bathe. Which is probably what the Dukes of Hazard would like actually be like, IRL. Very true. Very true.

As we saw in the last episode, Buster and Gary were terrible assassins. The cops set up a meeting with Buster where he came clean about his involvement in the attempt on Larry Ehler's life. What happens now, he said,

A detective said, you'll eventually be arrested and indicted for attempted capital murder. Gary was the one who fired the shots, Buster said. The police let Buster go for the moment so he could set up a meeting with his brother Gary. But Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dipshit chose to flee, running off to camp out in one of the national forests of New Mexico. There, they attacked someone camping near them, tying him up and zipping him inside his sleeping bag before. stealing the guy's truck. Oh my God. Well, they weren't any better at tying knots than they were at shooting people, though, and the victim wriggled free and got in touch with the park police. Matthew's boys were stopped before they even got out of the forest. Buster gave himself

up, but Gary fled into the woods. It gets cold at night up in the New Mexico Mountains, and the next morning, Gary, shivering and turning blue around the edges, turned himself in to a park ranger. The Matthews boys would spend most of the rest of the this story in a New Mexico jail on charges of kidnapping and auto theft. Great choices all around, boys. Excellent work. Tweedle D and Tweedle dipshit. Brian Creeple, who according to Bill, had set up Roseanne's death, was also easy to find. Investigators initially had Bill try to set up a meeting with Brian, which they would record, but Brian didn't show. He didn't run either, though, and when police knocked on his door, he wasn't at all surprised to see them. He said,

he'd been a nervous wreck since Bill called. He started sobbing into his hands. I didn't kill nobody, he said. All I did was pass the money onto this insurance guy, no. You know, campers, you really want to get as many people involved in your murder plots

as humanly possible. Involve everybody in the tri-state area, if you can. Just really share out the responsibilities, delegate. Make murder a crowdfunded activity. The more the merrier, right? Yeah, team activities really add a conspiratorial aspect to the crime that the state really loves. Yeah.

Now, the insurance guy he's talking about was an insurance adjuster named Andy Hopper who'd said he knew a dude in Houston who would kill for money. He'd taken the cash from Brian. Then a week or so later, it stopped by Brian's auto repair shop to say the job was done. And I know we've been throwing names at you like left and right over the past few minutes, but really, Andy Hopper is the end of the line. Like, you do not have to remember most of these people. Just focus in on Andy right now, okay?

There was no dude in Houston. It was all Andy. In 1974, when he was in the senior year at Sam Houston High School in Arlington, Andy Hopper looked ready to sail into a bright future. He was a popular kid, runner-up in the voting for senior class favorite, a finalist in the most handsome boy competition. which I died laughing at the first time I saw Most Handsome Boy

Competition On the golf team and in the Thespian club He was bright, well liked by his teachers He did have a reputation as kind of a bullshitter The kind of guy who, if he told you a story, You'd get the truth by dialing back whatever he said by about 50%. But he was polite and open Everybody, it seemed like dandy.

After high school, he enrolled in the Southwestern Assemblies of God College, aiming to be a minister. There, he met a cute, tiny girl named Becky Thompson, and before they'd finished their first year of college, they got married, dropped out, and moved to Dallas. Andy's dad had an auto repair shop, and all through high school, Andy had worked summers there. He was good at it, and especially good at dealing with customers, so his dad hired him. A couple years later, right after his 21st birthday, a Ford dealership in Houston hired Andy. to manage their body shop. The hoppers got a house, had a daughter, went to church. From the outside, they seemed like a happy young couple on their way up. Behind closed doors, Becky's life had turned into a nightmare almost as soon as they were married. Andy was all smiles to the

outside world, but at home, screaming fits of rage were an everyday part of life. Every morning, she had to lay out his clothes in a particular order. When Andy came out of the shower, Becky had to be standing there with a towel of a specific color, fresh and warm from the dryer. If his meals were not exactly perfect, he'd throw food and dishes around the kitchen in a tantrum. He'd grab Becky by the arms or the back of the neck, hard enough to bruise and shake her. He gave her a black eye by throwing a toy at her face. One year into his job at the Ford dealership, and he got in trouble with the law for the first time. There was an apartment complex close by the dealership, and the manager was a lady named Francis.

Ferguson. Just afternoon, she was vacuuming the bedroom of a recently vacated apartment with her infant son asleep in the living room. Suddenly, she looked up and saw Andy standing in the doorway, smiling. She asked if she could help him. Andy unzipped his pants and took out his dick. Scared, Francis charged past him, picked up her son and raced for the office. Looking out, she saw Andy casually heading for the parking lot and her panicked flip to anger. She heard, hurried to her own apartment, got her gun, and chased after him. Annie was just getting into his car when Francis pointed the gun at him and yelled, You want to come back and try that again? Which, hell yeah.

Terrified, Andy got out of his car and ran. Francis took down his license plate and called the cops. Andy was convicted of a Class C misdemeanor and fined. His wife Becky had to borrow money from her parents to pay for it. But of course, she didn't tell them what the fine was for. Class C freaking misdemeanor and find, God Almighty. You know, it really amazes me sometimes. And, of course, this is back in the 80s or the 70s or whatever.

So, but, you know, a lot of times we see similar shit today. And it just really shows you that there's a lack of understanding on an atomic level of how behaviors like that escalate and what they escalate too. Like, that shit has to get shut down. And we just don't do it. It's just like a slap on the wrist a lot of times. especially because of the particulars of this case. Like he passed a sleeping infant and cornered her in an vacant apartment.

That's a level of predation that is indicative of something that'll escalate. Yeah, for sure. Andy insisted to her that the lady in the apartment complex had made the whole thing up. Who knows whether Becky believed him. By now, she wouldn't dare contradict him. That wasn't the only secret behind the all-American, church-going facade. Apparently, Southwestern Assemblies of God College was quite the hotbed of weed and screwing around, and Andy kept both those habits going into his marriage. He cheated on

Becky constantly, sometimes with strangers, sometimes with her friends. Most lunch breaks at work when he wasn't flashing apartment complex managers, he was having sex behind Becky's back. You might be out there thinking, you know what would really improve this guy's life? A meth addiction, that's what? Andy had a deeply addictive personality, and once he tried meth, he was all in. His dad had opened an auto insurance appraisal company in addition to his repair shop and taught Andy the business. The company did well enough that when he opened up a branch in Dallas, Andy's dad made him

the manager. The hoppers, having added another daughter, got a modest three-bedroom home. They should have been comfortable, except that Andy's drug consumption was getting ever heavier and more expensive. He needed money. He'd heard rumors about a former employee of his dad's James Carver. Carver had taught Andy a lot of his auto skills during those high school summers. He'd still claimed to be in the body repair business, but he wore diamond rings in a Rolex, lived in a $2 million house, and drove a sports car. That's a hell of a lot of body repair. Yeah. In fact, James Carver was now one of the biggest.

weed dealers in the country, and apparently made around $50,000 every week. Holy shitballs. And in that era, money, too. Wow. Yeah. He had a soft spot for Andy and started giving him weed to sell on a pay later basis. Selling weed paid a lot better than insurance adjustment. Andy and Becky moved into a new house with a pool and went on fancy ski vacations. He invested with friends in a new Dallas nightclub called Beethoven's, which might be the most 80s name for a club I've ever heard. It really is. But because he had all the self-control of a puppy

who needs to pee, Andy's debts rose just as quickly as his income. He was always desperate for money. He had, of course, neglected his dad's insurance business almost entirely once he started selling drugs, and it went tits up quickly. In 1988, when detectives Rhonda Bonner and Ken McKenzie came to talk to him, Andy Hopper was working in the body shop of stately Chevrolet in Dallas. They spoke to him in an office and told him what Brian Creeple had told them, that Andy had said he knew a dude in Dallas who would kill for money. I'm going to tell you right now, Detective McKenzie said, The middleman in this deal don't have nearly as much to worry about as the lady who wanted it done

and the person who actually did it. Andy started sheeting sweat. I don't know what the hell you're talking about, he insisted. I think I should call my lawyer. He headed for the back of the shop, where the phone was. After a brief conversation, the detectives agreed they should take him to the police station for further questioning, but when McKenzie headed to the back of the shop, there was no Andy. As soon as he'd gotten out of the side of the detectives, he'd run out the back of the dealership,

across the sales lot, and climbed the fence. They headed for his address, not at all optimistic about finding him there. There was no one home. A neighbor out in her yard. told them Becky might know where Andy was. She was a cashier at a Michael's store nearby. As the two detectives started off, McKenzie said, I'll be damned.

He'd just remembered that he'd been on this street before, had in fact met Andy Hopper before. Four years earlier in 1984, a guy named Glenn Johnston had stopped by the Richardson Square Mall to buy a birthday card from a place called the card cage. While he was in there, a young guy with a beard brushed

passed him a couple of times. Glenn didn't think much of it. It was a tight little store and customers kind of had to squeeze past each other. When he went to pay for the birthday card, of course, his wallet was gone. It had had $40 in cash and $200 in travelers' checks as well as his driver's license, an ATM card, and some pictures of his wife and kids. Glenn hadn't gotten a good look at the guy in the store and he figured it was futile to report the theft to the cops.

He was probably right. I'm guessing the police response would have been a whole lot of nothing. but he hoped somebody might find the wallet and he'd at least get his pictures and driver's license back. Sure enough, two days later, someone called up to tell him they'd found his wallet in the mall. Glenn asked if he could come pick it up. I thought maybe there'd be a reward, his caller said. Glenn told him he could keep whatever cash was in the wallet. There's not any cash.

I'll be back in touch, the guy said. The next day, he called again and told Glenn to give him his ATM code saying, I'll get the reward myself. After some back and forth, the startled Glenn gave a fake number. Not long after, he got another call, and now even the slight pretense of friendliness had gone. You lied to me. What you need to think about is the fact that I've got all kinds of fucking information about you.

I know where you live, where you work, where your wife works, and what your kids look like. What he wanted was for Glenn to meet him and endorse the traveler's checks over to him. He gave Glenn some time to think it over, and right away Glenn called the Richardson PD. They told him to go ahead and set up the meet. Undercover officers would be waiting there to swoop in when the creep showed up. That evening, the thief called Glenn and told him to go to the Lockman's Plaza Shopping Center

where there was a lot of construction. There was a stack of bricks at one particular corner of the parking lot. The thief would leave the checks there, along with a note telling Glenn how to endorse them. Then Glenn was to go to the Jojo's across the street and wait for a call telling him where he could find his wallet. Damn, is Jojo's on some kind of magical true crime nexus or something? It's Jojo's every time. I mean, it is a chain, but still, damn. It's like, this is like a TV series, and Jojo's is their favorite restaurant. They all meet at Jojo's. Three undercover officers were close by the scene, including Detective McKenzie, watching everything

through binoculars from his pickup. Two other officers followed Glenn. as he drove over. Glenn found the brick and the checks, along with a card, telling him to make them out to A. Hopper. Glenn scribbled nonsense instead of a signature, then drove over to Jojo's. Not long after, a brown Ford pulled up. There were a lot of brown cars in the 80s, and not that sparkly, metallic brown you see today, like, fugly ass baby poop brown. It was a strange time.

I don't think of the appell. My parents had one of them. I remember it vividly. It was exactly baby diarrhea brown. Maybe the thinking is like you couldn't see dirt on it. I don't know. Yeah, probably. And they also, some of them had that freaking weird, like fake wood paneling,

which I always thought was a bizarre idea for a car. But you do you, 80s car designers, I guess. A guy in a white shirt and blue shorts got out of the brown car and grabbed the checks. Detective McKenzie approached in his pickup. Andy Hopper saw him, made him for a guy. cop immediately, jumped back into his Ford and hit the gas, racing for the parking lot exit. The two officers who'd followed Glenn had their cars blocking the exit and crouched behind the doors with their weapons out. Andy swerved right, bumped fast over the sidewalk, and was on the road.

McKenzie raced after him, sometimes getting up to 80. When he pulled alongside Andy, Andy swerved over and tried to run him off the road, then he screeched around a corner so hard a hubcap flew off, cannoned across a mall parking lot into a residential neighborhood, and that's where McKenzie lost him. Holy shit. He'd gotten his license plate number, though, and a few hours later, he and two other officers were at Andy's front door. What's the problem?

Andy said with his smile. He'd shaved off his beard and mustache and changed clothes. It wasn't enough. That's him, McKenzie said, and Andy went to the slammer. But only briefly, the next morning. Becky borrowed his bail money from a friend and because somebody fucked up on the paperwork, Andy was never charged.

Which is just astonishing to me because it sounds like a zealous prosecutor could have made a pretty good case for attempted murder of a cop. Well, yeah, he ramped right into him on purpose. Yeah. Okay, so back to 1988

when detectives, McKenzie, and Bonner showed up at the Michael store to talk to Becky Hopper. She recognized McKenzie right away in clammed up. Bonner took Becky to get a cup of coffee, probably out of Jojo's, and laid out the kind of trouble Andy was in. Becky refused to believe her husband could be involved in a murder, but after an hour, she told Bonner that Andy had an old high school buddy in Houston called Calvin Hobson, and Andy never stopped talking about all the shady, badass shit Calvin was

involved in. When Andy had taken money for the hit on Rosen-Gai-Lunis, remember, he said his buddy in Houston would be interested. Now the detectives needed to find Cal Lynn Hobson, although actually, no, they didn't because he called them just a couple hours later. He'd just spoken to Becky, and he was mad enough to spit

nails at having his name tied up with a murder plot. I don't know what the hell's going on up there, but I want this mess cleared up right now. I'm taking the next flight out. When Detective Bonner asked how she'd recognize him, Cal said, I'll be the best look son of a bitch walking off the plane.

Just a couple hours later, the best-looking son of a bitch who walked off the plane was in Detective McGowan's office. I've never heard anyone in my life, he said. I'm a con man. Three card money, pigeon drops, that sort of shit. I don't hurt people. That is not my thing. He and Andy hadn't been real close. They'd smoked weed together sometimes. Andy had tried to rope Cal into selling drugs for James Carver,

but Cal refused. He hadn't heard from Andy for years. McGowan believed him, and when he suggested Cal arrange a meeting with Andy while wearing a wire, Cal agreed. He called Becky on McGowan's phone. You tell him I'm coming to Dallas tomorrow night to get this straightened out. I'll get in at seven. I'll meet him in the airport lobby by that big statue of the Texas Ranger. Andy was hiding out in a comfort inn, drinking all day and calling friends to try and borrow money.

Becky had a girlfriend over to keep her company when Andy called, drunkenly rambling about how sorry he was to have hurt her and how he had a gun and was thinking about shooting himself. After hanging up, Becky went back to sitting beside her friend on the couch. He says he's thinking about commit suicide, she said. She paused for a while thinking, I hope he does. She said, dang, Becky's best. Andy did meet Cal in the Dallas airport, but it was a bust.

He apologized for dragging Cal's name into this business, but was also suspicious. Are you wearing a wire? He said, we could do a drinking game with how often somebody says, are you wearing a wire in this case? It's all over the place. So many wires. So are you wearing a wire?

He said, let's go into the bathroom. You proved to me you aren't wired and I'll tell you the whole thing. Cal, of course, was wired. Fuck that, he said, and marched away. Ken McKenzie, for one, was increasingly convinced that Andy was the person who had killed Roseanne Gileunis, but Detective McGowan still thought Andy might just be another link in the chain to the real killer. In the hope that he'd lead them to somebody else,

Andy was allowed to walk free for now. This was a mistake, because right after the meeting with Calvin Hobson, he disappeared. Becky Hopper was struggling. Andy, great guy that he was, had emptied out there checking and savings accounts before running, and she and the kids had to get help from her friends to get by. Among these friends was Linda Whitaker, a pretty brunette waitress at Beethoven's nightclub. She was a rock for Becky, always by her side, always helping around the house. Two weeks after Andy vanished, investigators got a call from Linda. She wanted to talk to them about her boyfriend, Andy Hopper.

She broke down in tears as soon as she sat down in the police station interview room. I love him and he loves me. Linda had been having an affair with her friend's husband for months and was still regularly in touch with him. She'd only been staying so close to Becky so she could learn what Becky knew about the investigation and pass it on to Andy. She'd actually helped Andy leave town, driving him to Oklahoma City.

And now he wants me to come see him, she said. She didn't know where he was. Andy would call back and tell her. She didn't believe he could be involved in any murder, but she was worried about him and agreed to tell the police where they'd meet and to wear a wire. A couple days later, Andy called and told her

to flight of Boise, Idaho, on Saturday morning. Detective McGowan flew up with the nervous Linda, coaching her all the way. Boise Police had been told what was happening and had already clocked Andy arriving at the airport on a motorcycle. In the terminal,

McGowan watched as a smiling Andy greeted Linda and kissed her, then pointed to the exit. At a holiday inn, McGowan and some very uncomfortable surveillance officers from the Boise PD listened to Andy and Linda have lots of loud and enthusiastic

assic sex in the room next door. Ugh, God's so awkward. They didn't hear much else all weekend, because Andy made a point of turning the TV up real loud whenever he and Linda talked. It wasn't until the visit was almost over that Linda turned down the TV and asked Andy to tell her the truth. Did you kill that woman?

She said. No, I didn't, Andy said, but I did take some money. I'm involved, but I didn't kill her. This seemed to confirm McGowan's picture of the case, and that was why he didn't arrest Andy there and then. He was sure he'd set up another visit for Linda. There was a lot of gross X-rated audio tape showing how much he'd enjoyed this one,

and she might be able to get the killer's name out of him next time. What he didn't know was that as they rode back to the Boise Airport, Linda had put her mouth by Andy's ear and told him the police had been watching and listening to them the whole weekend. She said he should leave town right away and ditch the motorcycle. He took her advice. and Andy Hopper was once again in the wind. You know, I got some bones to pick with Detective McGowan.

Bless his heart. It seems like every decision he makes is the wrong. The wrong decision. Bro, you should have just picked him up right then and there. He's on the lamb. Just grab him. I don't know. I feel like setting up a conjugal visit for a fugitive is like not a great idea.

I don't know. You know what else? just friggin blows my mind about that is that Linda knew that room was bugged and was still perfectly willing to just bang his brains out loudly while these

men were in the next room listening. She was probably enjoying it. He's probably a freak. Exhibitionist. Exhibitionist? Yeah. Back in Dallas, meanwhile, the DA finally decided that it was time for indictments and arrest warrants to start flying. Joy Ehlers,

red Porsche, was located outside her parents' house, and police waited till she got in the car before blocking her. Mrs. Ehler, McGowan said, you were under arrest. You've been indicted on five felony counts related to the murder of Roseanne Gailunis and the attempted murder of Larry Ailer. I have, she said, as if he'd just told her that she had a piece of toilet paper stuck to her shoe. She stayed cool and calm all through her one night in jail before being released on a $140,000 bond. She hadn't answered any questions except to confirm that Dr. Guy Leunis had nothing to do with his wife's death. It was clear she found the detective's continued pursuit of the doctor

kind of amusing. She was, anyway, back in her comfortable home within a day of her arrest, and there was no indication at all that she would soon lead the police on a chase that would make Andy Hopper's flight from the law look like child's play. But as I'm sure you've probably guessed by now, you're going to have to wait till next week to hear about that. We got one more part coming, y'all. There was just too much juicy stuff to cut out. And believe me when I tell you, it's going to be worth it, okay? Now, before we go, don't forget that tickets for the Crime Wave True Crime Crews go on sale today, February 7th.

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