True Crime Campfire - You Belong with Me: The Murders of Viktor Gunnarsson and Catherine Miller

Episode Date: May 10, 2024

Romantic jealousy is, for the most part, fundamental to the human experience, one of the uglier strands in the tangled mess that makes up a heart. Some people manage to overcome it completely, most of us will be familiar with the occasional hot stab of possessiveness. And some people will let jealousy consume them like a wildfire. If that person is also broken in a hundred other ways, then chances are, somebody’s gonna get hurt. Join us for a story of stalking, rage, betrayal and double murder. Download the game "June's Journey" on Apple iOS: https://apps.apple.com/us/app/junes-journey-hidden-objects/id1200391796"June's Journey" on Android: https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=net.wooga.junes_journey_hidden_object_mystery_game&hl=en&gl=US&pli=1Sources:Paula May, “First Degree Rage”Paula May, “Raging On”Investigation Discovery's "Dead of Winter," episode “Cold Blue”https://www.wataugademocrat.com/news/convicted-felon-former-officer-dies-while-serving-sentence-for-25-year-old-murder/article_122572e8-7598-58ce-b4ee-8d36d0f5f428.htmlCourt papers: https://caselaw.findlaw.com/court/nc-court-of-appeals/1435151.htmlFollow 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. Romantic jealousy is, for the most part, fundamental to the human experience. One of the uglier strands in the tangled mess that makes up a heart. Some people manage to overcome it completely. Most of us will be familiar with the occasional hot stab of possessiveness,

and some people will let jealousy consume them like a wildfire. If that person is also broken in a hundred other ways, then chances are somebody's going to get hurt. This is You Belong With Me, the Murders of Victor Gunnerson and Catherine Miller. So, campers, we're starting this one in the woods just off of the Blue Ridge Parkway, close to the mountain town of Boone, North Carolina, January 7, 1994. Detective Sergeant Paula May walked through the snowy forest, dreading what she was about to see. It was just after 2 p.m., but under the cloudy sky and the bare branches of the trees,

it was already gloomy on the forest floor. If you've ever been walking in the woods after a snowfall, you'll know how incredibly still it can be, like the whole world is stuck in one frozen instant, a feeling that can be either magical or eerie. The only sound Sergeant May heard was the crunch of her own boots on the snow. The surveyor, whose report had brought her up here, hadn't wanted to come any closer, and he decided to hang back. What he'd found were a pair of bare feet sticking out of the snow that had drifted against a fallen pine tree. In fact, he'd almost stepped on them, which, as you can imagine had freaked him out pretty badly. Detective May found the feet soon enough. The left one was

whole, but the toes of the right one had been eaten off, probably by a coyote or a fox, leaving only the bones. Only the feet were directly visible, but a long mound under the snow told Sergeant May there was likely a whole adult body there. The toes on the left foot had thick dark hair on them, so probably a man. Sometimes hikers lost their way and died in the deep woods of the Blue Ridge Mountains, but No one went out there barefoot, and besides, it had been a bitterly cold winter, not exactly the best environment for exploring the joys of nature. This smelled like a homicide to Sergeant May right away, and she called in the State Bureau of Investigation, SBI.

Small town police departments have limited resources, and this case was going to need expert crime scene technicians. When the FBI got to the scene, they carefully removed the snow covering the rest of the body. It was a man, a big guy with jet black hair and a bushy. mustache, and he was completely naked. Over the past month, temperatures had usually been above freezing during the day, but well below it at night. The body was part frozen, part decomposed. Before the most recent snowfall had covered him, small animal predation had taken his right ear, his nose, and one of his eyes. But what had killed him were two gunshots, one in the neck,

and one in the temple. There was almost nothing else at the scene besides the naked body. Almost. The body had a gold-plated wristwatch and a gold-signet ring with the initials RMR, which investigators hoped would make identifying the poor guy easier. And a few feet from the body, they found a strip of tape, several layers of electrical tape and masking tape pressed together. There were hairs and blood on the adhesive side and a hole torn through one end of the tape, a bullet hole. The victim's head had been wrapped with tape, covering his eyes before he'd been charged. shot. His killer had cut the tape away, most likely trying to remove any potentially incriminating evidence, but had dropped this one piece. As the body made its way to the medical examiner, Sergeant May went back to Boone and sent out details of the naked body to law enforcement

throughout the state, as well as a missing person's inquiry. The body in the woods was kind of distinctive, but she could hardly have expected a response to come as fast as it did. Ten minutes after she got home that night, Sergeant May got a call from the police department in Salisbury, a small city in the middle of the state a couple hours drive away. The Salisbury PD had a missing person who fit the body in the woods right down to the mustache, watch, and ring. Victor Gunnerson had been reported missing by his apartment manager on December 15th. When officers checked his apartment, they found his car still parked outside and his keys, wallet, and passport lying on a table. The front door of the apartment was closed

but not locked. Salisbury PD thought he'd been abducted. And there was some serious dirt in Victor Gunnersen's past, like global political level dirt. In 1986, Swedish Prime Minister Olaf Palm was assassinated, shot in the back in the street. Victor was arrested and held for several days on eyewitness testimony, but he was ultimately released without being charged. But the damage was done. Victor and his family were harassed for his supposed association to the assassination, so much so that he finally emigrated to the United States to try and get some peace. Fingerprints from the body confirmed that it was that of Victor Gunnerson. The autopsy showed he'd been shot twice with 22-caliber ammunition, with both bullets still inside his body. Obviously, having a victim who'd been involved, even tangentially in such high-level shenanigans, sent investigators' minds spinning in all kinds of interesting directions.

but ultimately the officer at Salisbury PD kind of grudgingly admitted that something closer to home was probably going on. Victor and one of their own officers, Elsie Underwood, had been involved with the same woman. Elsie had been investigated for stalking her and had ended up retiring from the force on disability. That wasn't the half of it, as Sergeant May found out when she got in touch with Don Gale, an FBI agent in Salisbury. He told her he was investigating the murder of an elderly lady, Catherine, Miller, who'd been shot to death in her kitchen on December 8th.

Sergeant May didn't see any connection to her own case. That is, until Agent Gale told her that Mrs. Miller's daughter, Kay Whedon, had been Victor Gunnerson's girlfriend, and Kay had just recently gotten herself out of a three-year relationship with an abusive, jealous weirdo named Elsie Underwood. Elsie was the main suspect in Catherine Miller's murder. According to Agent Gale, the officer May had spoken with previously, hadn't mentioned this because he was buddies with Elsie, and good old boys looked out for each other. Be careful who you talk to and what you say, Gail told Sergeant May, which, wow,

isn't that just what we want to hear when you're working with law enforcement? I know, right. Jeez. And just to fast forward here, Paula May would go on to become chief of police, and after she retired, she wrote a couple of books that ended up being our main sources for this episode. That's where all our quotes came from. So, back to Elsie Underwood. Aunt Claxton Underwood was born in Winston-Salem in 1951, and he had a tough childhood. That's not to excuse anything he might have done, but bad people don't usually spring up

from nowhere, and it's useful to know how they got the way they were. His dad was a cliche of a 50s tough guy, with slicked back hair and a pack of cigarettes rolled up in his sleeve of his t-shirt. He drank a lot and gotten violent when he did. Rebel without a clue. And his mom was no better. She didn't want to give up party life, so a lot of the time, she'd just dump her three kids with their Uncle George while she went out to have fun.

Sometimes she'd just leave them on a street corner and tell them to wait. So what you're saying is Norman Rockwell wasn't setting up as easel in this family's front yard and content on the next minute or so for some child abuse stuff. Right. Lamont's parents broke up when his dad caught his mom with another guy. The kids lived with her in her car for a while, then with their dad for a few months until he dumped them off on Uncle George. and pretty soon, both parents just drifted out of their lives.

After the chaos of their early years, a stable life with Uncle George and Aunt Delzia might seem like a step in the right direction, but not so much, at least not for Lamont. Years later, Uncle George would laughingly tell investigators about all the ways he'd kept Lamont under control, like making him wear a dress and suck on a pacifier while he swept up the front porch, with all his friends watching and laughing from the sidewalk. Great job, Uncle George. certainly not taking notes from the whole brain child or peaceful parent happy kids. Oh man, discipline by humiliation.

Mm-hmm. When Lamont would start kicking and screaming, either in rage or from a panic attack, George would tie him up in a sack until he settled down. Oh, my God. Uncle George didn't tell the investigators everything, though. They'd only learn from Lamont's younger sister, Margo, that George would whip them both with his belt, holding them upside down by their ankles while he did.

he'd make the kids stand for hours on one leg under threat of another whipping. Jesus, Murphy. This kind of horrific environment might have been designed to warp a child into a dangerous, violent man. Basically, build a bear for a future serial killer. Yeah, being humiliated in women's clothes should be added to the McDonald triad, make it a quad. Brutus, Manson, Henry Lee, Lucas, Albright, Crutchley, and that's just the ones I know off the top of my head. There are definitely more. Oh, yeah, it comes up a lot, actually.

Soon, Lamont was beating his sister Margo, spitting that he hated her. He told people he wanted to find and kill his dad. Lamont stayed with his aunt and uncle through the ages of three through eight. After he began setting fires in the attic, his caseworker suggested he be moved to an orphanage in Winston-Salem. He got in trouble for setting fires and being cruel to animals. That, as I'm sure many of you know, is two corners of the famous McDonald triad, which has sometimes been considered predictive of violent adult behavior. We don't know if Lamont was also a bedwetter past the age of six, which is the third corner,

but I wouldn't be surprised. There was a couple connected to the orphanage, Barbara and John, who had a farm that kids liked to visit. Lamont met them when he was a teen and got close to them, especially Barbara, who was just eight years older than he was. Like, close enough that people thought it was weird. Lamont's sister Margo later said they had an, um, awed relationship. I don't know what really went on between them, if anything. Maybe it just looked odd. For the rest of his life, Lamont would describe this woman

that he had an, um, odd relationship with as his mother. In 1973, Lamont, who'd grown up to be a reasonably good-looking guy, met a cute young woman named Karen at Myrtle Beach. He and Karen, who'd just gotten separated, married only three months after they met. Shockingly, it didn't work out. They barely talked, they barely knew each other, and Karen soon filed for an annulment. This was easily granted

as she'd been mistaken in thinking her previous marriage was officially over. She was still legally married and so obviously hadn't really married Lamont at all. Investigators tracked Karen down years later.

Given what they knew about Lamont and his other relationships, they asked if he'd ever been violent and jealous in their brief time together. She said no, but she seemed kind of evasive about it. When pressed, she still said Lamont hadn't been bad to her,

but did reveal that she'd actually thought he might be gay. She wasn't willing to explain that any further. Maybe he just didn't show any interest, I don't know. But just six months after this first marriage fizzled out, Lamont was married again to an 18-year-old college freshman named Brenda. We don't know any details of his pre-marriage situationships, but given that both times he got a ring on it within months, I'm guessing he love-bombed the hell out of these girls.

Lamont stayed in Winston-Salem while Brenda went to school an hour away. she'd come back and stay with him on weekends, but within a few months she was staying away on the weekends, too. She told investigators that they drifted apart and that she, just a teenager at the time, wanted to stay and have fun with her friends. A couple who were mutual friends filled out the story a little more, though. Lamont was insanely jealous with Brenda, and more than once they'd seen him hit her. This was 1974, remember, and a lot of people would have reacted just the way their friends did. It was none of their business. they just hoped Brenda would get out of there soon, which she did.

The investigators figured Brenda hadn't told them herself because she was embarrassed, which is an unfortunately common reaction in victims of domestic violence. By 1976, Lamont was a police officer in the town of Newton and dating another college student, a girl named Jeannie. They were only together two months, which was more than enough for her. Things started off great. He was real polite, Jeannie recalled later, and super neat. It didn't take long for the bloom to come off the rose, though.

For no reason at all, he started accusing Jeannie of screwing around with other men. She came home one time and found him asleep on her couch. She hadn't given him a key. He'd had one maid without telling her. When she hung out with a female friend until about 10 p.m., Lamont jumped out at her when she got back to her apartment complex as parking lot, accusing her of screwing around. In between his ranting, Jeannie was able to tell him where she'd actually been, and also that she was breaking things off.

Good for her. Then I'll just shoot myself, Lamont said. He climbed into Jeannie's empty car and drove off. Very soon after, Jeannie heard a gunshot. She ran in the direction of the shop but couldn't find either Lamont or her car. He came back a couple hours later, full of apologies and begging for forgiveness.

Yeah, don't they always? Yep. This was the pattern in their relationship. Lamont would do something violent and unhinged, then beg forgiveness and warm his way back in. Once, he broke into her apartment and waved his gun around saying he was going to kill her. Another time, when they were staying in a hotel, they got into a loud fight. And when Jeannie tried to leave, Lamont threw her to the ground.

A cop was called, but he didn't stick around, just asked if everybody was okay and left. Nice job, man. This spares repeating, but if your partner threatens to hurt themselves or especially you, you should run. The first indication of violent behavior is often threatening violence. Yeah, and I know we've said this before, but that threatening suicide to get you to stay in the relationship. relationship. That is just pure manipulation. And, you know, I get it. I have literally had this happen to me in a relationship. I get it. Because you think I couldn't live with myself, you know, I'm telling you, you're being manipulated. If somebody's doing that to get you to stay in an abusive relationship, you're being manipulated. Yeah. And I think, you know, what works is, what would you tell your best friend if this was happening to them and why is it acceptable when it's happening to you? Or is this how you you want the rest of your life to go. This, like, because it's, it's just not going to get better.

It's just not. Nope. Jeannie dumped Lamont's ass yet again, but a few days later, he showed up with a police report that named her as being drunk and disorderly at the hotel, threatening to show it to everyone she knew unless she came back to him, which she refused to do. Then he started sending her letters. The first was all sappy pleas and promises. Darling, I miss you and I love you so much.

I can't stand this being without you. Please let me come back into your life. When Jeannie didn't respond, she got another letter, and the tone had changed. I have sent copies of that report to your personnel department, your mother and sister. Now you're going to hurt like I've been hurt, you damn bitch. I'll run you out of this damn town if it's the last thing I do. I'll ruin you, Jeannie, if it's the last thing I do. Ah, sweet words of love.

He really knows how to pitch woo this one. Jeannie and her family went to the chief of police. The chief could tell right away that LeMont had written up the police report himself. I'll take care of it, he told them. Lamont resigned soon after, and in the paperwork, the chief wrote that Lamont's certification should be reviewed. He said he recommended against letting him serve in law enforcement after this. If other police departments did their due diligence for new hires, Lamont might never be a cop again. But of course, not every department bothered to look that deep.

That's often the case in small towns especially, and right after the Newton PD kicked him to the curb, Lamont got a job as a sheriff's deputy in the town of Lincolnton. Basically, the sheriff took a liking to him and gave him a job. And in some ways, Lamont was a good officer to have. His ex-girlfriend Jeannie had called him super neat, which barely scratched the surface. Lamont Underwood was super neat like Charles Manson was a little eccentric. This is an aspect. of Lamont's personality that was only going to get worse. But even now, he was obsessively

clean and tidy. His uniform was always spotless and sharply ironed. The trailer he lived in was sparsely furnished and every surface was so glisteningly clean, you could eat your dinner off of it. If he was at a table where somebody put out a cigarette in an ashtray, he'd clean the ashtray out right away. He was developing a serious obsessive-compulsive problem, which a lot of times comes from a desperate need to establish control after a chaotic childhood. Yep. It also meant he demanded an impossible degree of control over his romantic partners, and there was never a shortage of those.

Lamont, who was either a psychopath or damn close to the edge, had a ton of superficial charm at the start of a relationship. A neat, thorough, meticulous officer is quite a catch for a small town department. If it wasn't for the success of series of flaming train wrecks that made up his personal life, Lamont might have been able to carve out a successful career. A couple of months after Lamont had left Newton PD, his ex-girlfriend Jeannie got a call from his new partner, Patty, who wanted to know if Jeannie had had any trouble with Lamont. Oh, that's a red flag right there. Jeannie warned her off, telling her Lamont was dangerous, which Patty was already figuring out.

She'd found a list LeMont kept of people who'd done him wrong. Jeannie's name was on it, and Patty had wanted to let her know. Jeannie was scared, of course, but not surprised. Patty's relationship with LeMont went downhill not long after it started. She and her girlfriends always went on a beach trip every Easter. Lamont tried and failed to talk her out of it, and soon after Patty arrived at the coast, he'd called and told her, That's it, you've abandoned me. You're not coming back.

Damn, dude. When she came back, Lamont seemed resentful and jealous. He liked to go out, but didn't want to take Patty with him. Date night was Lamont coming over to her place for her to make dinner while he watched TV. Thank you, no. One time, Charlie's Angels was on, and he complained that Patty didn't look like Jacqueline Smith, which excuse the fuck out of me for not being one of the most beautiful women in Hollywood. Geez, LeWalee, can you freaking imagine?

Get out of my house. Jacqueline Smith, is that the flipping, is that the standard? Please know, because that woman was gorgeous. I don't want to, I don't want to appearance shame, but this man, no, I mean, come on. Come on. Dude, you're no oil painting yourself. Settle the fuck down. Like, seriously, like, it's just wild that a man like that would be like, you should look like

Jacqueline Smith. I could pull Jacqueline Smith. No, you the fuck you couldn't. Shut up. He criticized her clothes. They weren't sexy enough or they were too sexy depending on what kind of shitty mood he was in on any given day. he'd get mad because she didn't have cigarettes at her apartment.

Patty didn't smoke, but she was supposed to keep in a supply just for him. At Christmas, he whined and begged until she bought him a $150 gun, about $800 in today's money. He got her a $20 blender and nothing else. I'm surprised she didn't shove his dick and balls in it and hit Pulse. Her puree. Gotta. Dude, a $20 blender.

One time, they went to dinner at a friend's place and the host handed out beers to everybody. Patty didn't drink, but she took the beer out of politeness. Lamont pulled it out of her hands straight away and said, Sluts drank loud enough for everyone to hear. Lovely. Eventually, Patty managed to break off her emotionally and physically abusive relationship with Lamont. Then he started stalking her and making threatening phone calls. Some of the other cops told him to knock it off, but their intervention didn't go much further than that.

Not even when he spray-painted, Patty is a whore in red on the side of her church. Lovely. In 1979, a long time after she dumped Lamont, a guy asked Patty out. She liked him, but she was still scared of Lamont, so she arranged for the guy to pick her up at a friend's place. After dinner, her date drove her back to her friend's house, and from there, Patty drove home. She had tried to be careful, but it hadn't helped. As soon as she stopped her car, Lamont was right there, yank and open the car door and grabbing her shirt. He called her a slut and a stupid bitch and forced her into the apartment, where he smashed a potted plant over her head and screamed at her as he pushed her to the floor.

He straddled Patty and choked her until she started blacking out. Then he'd let up until she was alert again, and straight away choke her again until she almost blacked out, again and again and again. again. There's no record of Lamont trying this stuff with anybody else before, but he had to have, right? I mean, that's a well-practiced move. We know quite a lot from interviews with his exes, but that's not all of his life. In particular, he fits the profile of someone who would abuse sex workers to a T, but we don't know anything about that. I'm just saying, I have some suspicions. Because this guy fits that serial offender profile real close. Eventually, Lamont took out his revolver and press the barrel between Patty's eyes.

Bitch, you're going to die, he said. He kept the gun there and made Patty tell him about her date, then said that Patty's friend was a fat-ass bitch who he hated. He'd never met her. Eventually, Lamont holstered his gun and stood up. When Patty tried to get up, he beat her with a wooden chair and punched her, then told her he'd be riding along with another officer all night and would hear over the radio if she called the police.

Then he'd come and kill her. Can you freaking imagine? Patty believed Lamont would make good on his threats and never called the cops, but she checked herself into the hospital the next day and the medical records of her injuries match her description of what happened to her. And the thing that really sucks about that

is that so often, and I have to say, I have a lot of respect for prosecutors, but I have seen prosecutors do this shit where they'll say, well, there was never, like if a woman kills her husband and the prosecutor is prosecuting the woman for killing her husband. And the woman, part of the defense will be, well, I was abused or whatever. And the prosecutor will say, well, did you ever file a police report?

That's a shitty question. Okay, whether that particular woman is innocent or guilty, lying or not, we need to shut that question down. Because the vast majority of the time, there's not going to be a police report. No. For the many reasons we've discussed a thousand times on this show, people don't report it. So that's just complete ignorance to say that. Yeah, that's like asking what were you wearing. Like, it is. It is. And prosecutors in particular, it drives me quick because they know better.

They know better. Like, stop it. Don't do systemic damage just because you're trying to win your case. That's gross. When Patty went back to work in a few days, she wore sunglasses and turtlenecks to try and hide her black eye and bruising. Nobody was fooled. Her dad certainly wasn't and went to see Sheriff Harvin Krause, who said he'd deal with Lamont. Dealing with him to Krause, who was about as shitty as sheriff as you can possibly imagine, giving Lamont a stern talking to and making him promise to never do it again. Pinky swear. Pinky swear, you won't threaten to murder a woman? Oh, oh, oh. It's building. It's building, Whitney, my rage. Shockingly, this finger wagging didn't work.

Lamont kept showing up at Patty's apartment and getting mad when she'd flinch away from him. He said he wouldn't let her break up with him because then people would think there was something wrong with him. Now, this is, this is bad bitch level, like, uno reverse card. She said he could just tell everyone that he'd broken up with her and... Sure, yeah. Yeah. And that was all it took to finally get him out of her life.

A promise to protect his delicate little ego. Ugh, pathetic. Lamont's next two relationships started with the same pattern. A polite, well-spoken gentleman at first, who, quickly became a violent nightmare. His behavior was a carbon copy of his time with Patty, all the way down to holding a gun at a one woman's forehead, calling the other a whore in bright red spray paint, and buying cheap blenders for them for Christmas.

Seriously, Lamont bought so many girlfriends' cheap-ass blenders, he must have owned stock and KitchenAid. It's like he settled on that. That's the gift. That's the woman gift. It's like a step above a vacuum. You know, except a vacuum would be more expensive. A vacuum would be better.

It's just like, you can get this shit at the 7-Eleven on your way home. Yeah, it's the, it's the, it's the, they know the words, but not the, not the music, music, not the words. It's just, he just didn't get it. He was like, this is an acceptable gift. What the fuck? In 1982, he met a woman named Marcia and within five months they were married and moving back to her hometown of Salisbury. In some ways, they were a good match, partly because Marcia was. kind of timid and took care to not press Laman's buttons, although by this time he had started

calling himself L.C. Apparently, unaware that it made him sound like the Borden mascot. You know, the cow? Hey, Elsie. I can't not say it that way either. Elsie. It really is actually hard not to say it like Elsie. Another way that Marcia was a good match for him was that Marcia was a nurse who worked second shift at the local hospital, and they didn't see each other much. She says he was never violent towards her, but that he did enjoy belittling her in public.

Their marriage limped along for years, getting steadily worse. They'd ultimately get divorced in 1993, but they separated years before. L.C. had been cheating on her with multiple women toward the end of their marriage. But by then, Marcia didn't care. She just hoped one of those relationships turned serious so she could get out of that marriage easier. Sometime in 1990, a colleague of LCs introduced him to his neighbor, Kay Whedon, a pretty blonde divorcee who'd just moved back to North Carolina with her teenage son. Kay was bright and funny. She taught English and drama at the local high school. Elsie liked what

he saw and turned on the charm. As he had with every woman he dated, he started off charming and polite, chivalrous even. He'd take her to nice restaurants and pull out the chair for her, and he was always well-dressed and neat. His home was neat too. Really, really neat. When Kay would visit and walk over the plush carpet to the couch, Elsie would jump up and vacuum her footprints away. Oh, my God. At first, Kay initially found stuff like this oddly charming. That didn't last. Yeah, I think I want to smack him day one for that.

That's bonkers. It's like, my mere presence is filth to him. No, thanks. Yeah. Before long, they were dating exclusively. As usual, once Elsie got his hooks into a partner, he felt more comfortable. showing his ass. He got possessive and was jealous of any time Kay spent with her friends, was even jealous of her son, Jason, complaining that he was second best, which

yeah, uh-huh. Correct. He wanted Kay to be with him all the time, and he wanted her to want the same, just with him, no one else at all, not even her son. Hey, Kay tried to tell Elsie that she needed some space of her own and that it didn't mean she didn't care about him. He yelled at her, a relationship is not about being a part. She tried to bring, I know this. That's like literally sounds like something that a middle school kid would say in a relationship, doesn't it? Yes. Good Lord.

She tried to break up with him a couple of times, but he begged and promised and told her about his terrible childhood, and his childhood was terrible. But he pulled this card out every time a woman tried to break up with him, converting his trauma directly into manipulation called trauma bonding, right? Or trauma dumping. Trauma dumping. After her divorce, Kay was kind of insecure about relationships and always let herself be talked into staying with Elsie, despite her instincts telling her to get the hell out. Kay's mom, Catherine, never thought Elsie was a good match for her daughter, but she was a classy lady and was always kind to him. But Kay remembered that one time Catherine had mildly scolded him for something, and Elsie had just put his hands over his eyes and sat there silently. It was just bizarre.

In the summer of 1992, Elsie had been good to Kay for weeks. Maybe he'd come to terms with his insecurities. Maybe they were starting on a really healthy relationship. He took her up for a weekend in the Blue Ridge Mountains, driving easily around the winding country roads without ever looking at a map. He knew the area well. Victor Gunnerson's body would be found right around here. On that trip, Elsie asked Kay to marry him, and she said yes.

But having apparently locked her down, he went to. back to his normal whining jealous ways. Within weeks of them getting engaged, Kay gave him his ring back and broke things off. But Elsie wasn't just going to accept that. From then on, he described Kay as his fiancé. In October, Kay went out on a nice, easy dinner date with a guy named Johnny. When he drove her home, Elsie's car was in her driveway, and as Johnny pulled in, Elsie got out and started toward them. Back up, back up, Kay said. She'd already started shaking. Let's see. Let's go. She had Johnny take her to a friend's place, then called Jason at home and told him to lock the doors because LC was outside. Jason, who was 15 by this time, told her he would, but that

neither he nor the exchange students staying with them were scared of LC Underwood. Kid, he's a crazy cop with a gun, honey. Everybody should be scared of him. Like I said, Jason was 15. Kay spent the night at her friend's place, then called Jason first thing in the morning to tell him she was coming home. Hello, said the voice that picked up the phone. It was Elsie. He'd broken into the house in the night, without the boys knowing, and just sat there, waiting for Kay. He was gone when Kay got home. So was her driver's license and some mail that had been sitting on a countertop.

And yet, somehow, he wormed his way back into her life, with pleas and promises and expressions of regret. I mean, Kay had a two-year relationship with the guy. She cared about him, and right now, she was worried about him. She thought he might hurt himself. Again, that is a powerful weapon. And just to throw out some dime store psychology here, this is probably exactly what Elsie really wanted, not a romantic partner, but an ever-present caregiver. He wanted a mommy who wouldn't leave him. Elsie got depressed as the holiday season approached.

Kay invited him to Thanksgiving at her mom's place. Your mom hates me, Elsie said. She didn't hate him. She should have hated him, but Catherine Miller just thought Elsie wasn't the right guy for her daughter. On Thanksgiving morning, Kay and Jason went to pick Elsie up. He didn't answer the door, but both his cars were in the driveway. Worried, Kay let herself in with the key he'd given her.

They found Elsie in his bedroom asleep, so deeply asleep that Kay couldn't wake him up. Kay turned on MTV and put the volume up because LC hated MTV. Of course, he freaking did. Oh, my God. After a couple minutes, he opened his eyes, get out he said his voice like ice Kay said she wasn't going to leave until she knew he was okay still laying down Elsie reached into his nightstand and took out a gun

I said get out get out or I'm calling the police you broke in here I will call the police he didn't seem to recognize her he also didn't seem to know Jason was in the room when the kid cleared his throat Elsie pointed the gun right at him Kay told Jason to get out and drive home. She, somewhere on the spectrum between brave and terrible decision-making, was going to stay there and try to stop Elsie if he tried to shoot himself.

Bless her heart. She stayed there and tried to talk to him. He barely responded to her. Eventually, she left. Elsie called a couple of days later and apologized for being so weird. It's the medicine I was prescribed for my back pain, he said. L.C. had theoretically sustained a back injury while on duty, one of those convenient work injuries that, for example, didn't stop him from going out to clubs and dancing. And certainly, his pain meds were not going to send him into a fugue state where he didn't recognize two people he knew really well.

Investigators think, and I agree, that he faked the whole thing, that he was fully awake and aware the whole time, and that he did it both to manipulate Kay into worrying about him even more and to have a big dramatic scene. so he'd be the center of attention on Thanksgiving because Kay spending time with her mother and her son was just unacceptable. He should come first. People like him always ruin holidays and any like kind of event. It's just what they do.

It's like if somebody, if there's always a big dramatic happening on a holiday, you don't need to put up with that. I'm just saying, you don't got to. It's like, how can I make this about me? Right. Like they can't stand. They cannot stand a day that isn't.

directly about them. So like, if it's Christmas, God forbid. Somebody's christening, God. How dare you? How dare you? About a month later, Kay's toaster stopped working. Elsie said, you can have mine. I never use it anyway. So fine. Kay took his toaster and tossed her old one. A few weeks later, late on a freezing cold winter night, there was a knock on Kay's door. It was Elsie, disheveled for the first time Kay had ever seen. He had on jeans, bathroom slippers, and a food stained sweatshirt. I want a toaster, he said. Kay said, uh, what? I came to get my damn toaster.

Now give it to me. So Kay, so Kay unplugged the damn toaster and handed it to him. He took it like it was the Pulp Fiction Briefcase and walked out. God, that's so disturbing. I think, I can't imagine him eating toast. Like, imagining crumbs in the toaster, I think, would send him over the edge. I guarantee you, there were no crumbs on that man's countertop. Not one. He probably looked at it with a mic like a microscope every morning or magnifying glass making sure there was no crumbs.

Not long after, because of his supposed back problem, Salisbury's PD assigned LC as the school resource officer at Salisbury High, which is terrifying. In March 1993, there was an unusual cold snap and snowfall. Before driving to work, Kay wanted to warm the car up, so she went out to the garage and pulled up the door. Her house didn't have a powered garage door opener. When she turned back to her car, she gasped. Somebody had spray-painted insults all over her Honda in bright red, whore and slut and others. The panels on her doors had been kicked in. She's.

Shaking, Kay hurried inside and called the police, who started a deputy over to the house. She also called Elsie. Elsie arrived at the same time as the deputy. It looks like the work of juveniles, he said. The deputy agreed, said it might be. have been one of her high school students. Kay must have left her garage door unlatched. Yeah, I have to say, it is very juvenile. Yeah. Yeah. Shocking. Elsie promised he'd take care

of everything. Kay leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder, and he squeezed her tight against him. It wasn't until they'd left that Kay pulled down the garage door and saw that it had also been sprayed. The message there was, Jason is a gasler. This was just the beginning. Kay's house was egged right after she'd fixed up her Honda. It was keyed. Then she got a long letter threatening Jason, basically saying he was going to get his ass kick for being too popular at the high school. What the hell? That's something I've never heard.

That's a new one. Yeah, that's like that girl. Remember what case was it with the woman was like, everybody hates me because I'm too pretty? Everyone hates me because my ass is too fat. My hair is too good. My face is too pretty. Everyone's just so jealous. Like, what?

It was supposedly from a classmate, but Kay, as a high school English teacher, had read more teenage writing than anyone should have to. And this read more like the work of an adult. The letter also said, we bet he didn't know that his house was shot at over the weekend, so you might want to look for bullet holes. Sure enough, there was a small 22-caliber bullet hole in the siding and wall outside Jason's bedroom. The bullet had wound up in the dresser. Oh, damn. And what made this especially scary was that Jason and Kay had just rearranged his bedroom. He had an injury from his soccer team and his coach had suggested that a waterbed might help him recover.

Okay, I do not want to detract from the terror of this because holy fucking shit. But that really is the most 90s advice ever is you're hurt. Get a water bed. I got to say, I'm a fan of the waterbed. I had one for a while. It was really nice, especially because you could heat up the water in it in the winter. And it was just, oh, whole, whole, yeah, I have no, I have no beef with water beds. They've always been very comfortable.

It's just, you know, having, hideous to look at and hideous to take care of. Yeah, you have, you have like a large body of water in your house at all times. Seems not like a great idea. And my cats would poke holes for sure. Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. They would pop that thing for sure, like a balloon. And I know this is a detour, but also if you're an arachnophobic, Don't listen to the next 30 seconds or so, but I remember hearing a story once about a woman who was feeling really sick and run down for a while and couldn't figure out why her doctor thought she might even have like lupus or Lyme disease or something because she was just horribly sick and she had these like weird rashes and everything.

And eventually, oh my God, she was moving and she was dismantling her waterbed and there were like dozens of brown recluse spiders living underneath it. And they were biting her. God, it's just like the worst story I've ever heard in my life. And I'm a true crime aficionado. That's the worst story. You have a rectophobia, to be fair. I do. I'm very repulsed by spiders.

But geez, Louise, even if you're not, like, God, that is just horrifying. Anyway, so they had just put in this water bit a few days ago. And if Jason's bedroom had still been in its old configuration, like the furniture, how it was, the bullet would have come through right about. where his head would have been when he was sleeping. Ugh. Yikes. Yeah. So Kay called the police again, which was getting to feel like an almost daily occurrence. LC said the deputies they sent over were idiots. She should just rely on him to take care of things. The next night, Kay got a call. Tell your gasler son, I want my $2,000, said a gruff male

voice. For what? Kay said. For drugs? Until your gasler boyfriend cop, we were there, but he just didn't catches. LC was also apparently a target for the people harassing Kay and Jason. His house had also been egged. He'd gotten calls about Jason dealing drugs, and he offhandedly mentioned that people had shot at his house from a passing car. Kay was astonished. You had a drive-by shooting at your house? Elsie just shrugged it off and never mentioned it again. A couple days later, Kay got another much briefer note. Rose are red, violets are blue. We are going to fuck Jason and your house, too. Ooh, God, I sweat myself a little. That's terrifying.

This time, Kay didn't turn to Elsie. She called her mom. This was the first Catherine had heard about the harassment. Kay hadn't wanted to worry her. Catherine, right away, ponied up $4,000 for a private security firm to watch Kay's house for 10 days. No further incidents happened during that time. Kay, of course, had told LC the security people would be there. It hadn't crossed her mind that L.C. could be behind the harassment, but it had certainly crossed the minds of the officers investigating the case, who were not nearly as dumb as L.C. thought

they were. Soon, they told Kay that L.C. was their prime suspect and that he'd been suspended while the investigation was going on. Kay didn't believe it at first, but slowly, and with encouragement from her mom, she cut L.C. out of her life. He kept calling her, one time just before 1 a.m. What time did you get home, Kay? About 1130, Elsie. Can I come over? He said, now? No.

Why not? Because I'm wet, cold, and tired, Kay said. We can talk tomorrow. You won't live till tomorrow, Elsie said, and hung up. Kay locked all the windows and stayed awake as long as she could. She didn't call the police because she didn't think they'd take her seriously. She had good reason for that. Her next-door neighbor happened to be Elsie's

watch commander and whenever she'd complained about him he'd just shake his head and say that's not the elsie underwood i know maybe it's because you haven't had to date him asshole really god this is the kind of bullshit that makes it so much harder for women to come forward with abuse are you fucking kidding me watch commander like he sounds like a frack guy whose buddy just got charged with assault in fact i witnessed this at my school where somebody was like at my university where somebody came forward and everyone was like well he's such a nice guy like oh god oh so infuriating yeah mm-hmm spouses of cops are abused at higher rates than civilian couples and the absolutely staggering level of protection these fucking bozos offer each other is why it's so pervasive

like this go fuck yourself yeah and also way to serve and protect dude good job the hell it's infuriating So in November, Kay went out on a date with a guy called David that she'd met through a dating service. And they were having a nice dinner when LC suddenly appeared at their table and started talking quietly to Kay. David couldn't hear what they were saying, just Kay's replies, no, no, no. Then Elsie turned to him and said, I'll kill you, boy. He picked up Kay's glass of iced tea and poured it straight into her lap, then walked out. man if I were that dude

I think I'd be tempted to lay him out but I mean it was wise of him not to David drove Kay home and never called her again at her mom's suggestion Kay complained about Elsie to the chief of police all he did was say

I'm sorry to hear that and I hate to hear that but he didn't do anything and this was bullshit stalking had been a crime in North Carolina since 1990 and Elsie's ass should have been in a cell the exchange student

living with Kay and Jason, was a Danish kid called Mikkel. A friend of Kay's, Tana, suggested Kay meet this Swedish guy she knew Victor. Swedish and Danish are similar enough languages that they're mutually understandable, and Kay's friend thought Mickle might appreciate meeting someone he could talk to in his native language. I'm guessing she was also trying to set Kay up, because Victor turned out to be a good-looking charmer of a guy. He got along well with the boys, and he and Kay hit it off immediately. They hung out a lot. He'd come over to cook spaghetti for, everybody, all very platonic and very obviously moving towards something that wasn't.

On December 3rd, Kay and Victor went out for dinner with Kay's mom. Afterwards, Catherine told Kay she liked Victor, but that he did tend to talk over Kay, and also he hadn't made any effort to pick up the check after he saw Catherine reach for her first, so he wasn't perfect in mom's eyes, but definitely a step in the right direction. Victor came over to Kay's later and they talked for a while, then kissed, then moved to the bedroom. Kay lit some candles and they went to bed. Outside in his Monte Carlo, Elsie watched, his brain boiling over. He knew what it meant when Kay lit candles in her bedroom. He knew what they were doing. He was fuming. Later, Jason came home with some of his friends and everyone hung out around

the fire put out back. After Victor left, Jason told his mom that he seemed cool. The next morning, Kay was happy. She waited for Victor to call like he said he would and waited. He never, called. She never heard from him again. No one did. Kay was hesitant to be the first to call. She didn't want to seem pushy or desperate, but after a couple of days, she figured she had an excuse. She was going to get a Christmas tree and wanted to ask Victor for help, but she just got his machine. So she went with her friend Tanna to get the tree. On the way back, they swung by Victor's apartment to check on him. His car was still there, and his door was a little bit of jar. Tanna said he was probably just hanging out with a friend. Kay worried this was a female

friend that Victor had gotten what he wanted from her and was moving on to someone else. When Kay got home, Elsie called her. Kay, I'm going to come pick you up at seven o'clock this evening. I'm going to bring you back over here and I'm going to make love to you. We are going to get this relationship back on track, the way it should be. Kay said she couldn't see him. She had too much to do. We've been apart long enough, Elsie said. You've had your time alone. Kay hung up, but called him later on to make sure he wouldn't just show up at seven. How does your mother like your new boyfriend? Elsie spat over the phone. She liked him okay, Kay said. At the time, she didn't think, wait, how did Elsie know anything about Victor, especially

that he'd met her mom? They fought over the phone for a while until Kay hung up. He called back the next night when Kay was getting ready to go out with some girlfriends for a birthday dinner, and when she was explaining where she was going, she told him which restaurant. The ladies were having a fun night at the restaurant when Elsie walked in, with a sexy redhead on his arm. Kay assumed this was Kim. Kim was someone Elsie had made a point of telling Kay about an attractive woman who was just begging Elsie to go out with her. Because, you know, hot girls were always just throwing themselves at Elsie. And if Kay wasn't careful, one of them would just scoop him up.

Oh, please. No, don't. Kim, of course, was imaginary. The woman on Elsie's arm was a friend of a friend that he was paying to go out to dinner and act all flirty with him. You could fill a sack with puppy's tears, and that still wouldn't be as sad of a sack as Elsie Underwood. Paying a woman to go on a date to make your ex jealous. Oh, Lord, the level of cringe is off the charts. He pointedly ignored Kay, and she did her best to ignore him, moving. a flower arrangement on the table, so it blocked her view of him.

She didn't care if he was seeing someone else. It'd be a relief. But she knew he'd come to that restaurant just to try and ruin her night. A couple days later, she got a long, rambling letter from him, professing his love, begging her to come back to him. He even gave Kim a speaking role. Kim looked at me and she looked over at you and then she said, you both love each other and I can tell you both want your arms around each other, so don't be stupid. I'll take things that never happened for 500.

That's how, that's definitely how women speak. That's for sure, not just like a fantasy in his head. Kay didn't respond to the letter. Elsie soon called her. Kay, you are forcing me to make a life with Kim. He said, I'm not forcing you to do anything, Elsie. Kay said, I don't want that girl. I want you, Elsie said.

But I'm just going to have to go on. Do it then, Kay said and hung up. He called later and asked. asked Kay what she was doing. She said she was making dinner and watching TV. He wanted to know what she was watching. She told him unsolved mysteries. Ooh, good choice, girl. Having satisfied himself that she was staying in all night, Elsie let her go, which was weird. Usually getting off the phone with him was like trying to get out of a bear trap. And the next day, Kay's world fell to pieces. On December 9th, she was teaching when two of her mom's co-workers came together.

What's wrong, Kay said? Her heart already syncing. her mom's boss told her Catherine hadn't come into work or called that morning, which she never did. The sheriff's department were on their way to her house. They drove Kay to her mom's house. Her mind was spinning. Her mom was in good health, but she was 77 years old and lived alone. Any number of bad things could have happened. Deputies were already at Catherine Miller's house when they arrived. They asked if Kay had a key. She said she had one at her own place just up the street. A deputy drove her there, Kay grabbed the key and they hurried back. As she went to the door, Kay noticed the storm door was unlocked. Her mom only did that if she knew the person on the other

side. With shaking hands, she tried to unlock the door, but the key wouldn't fit. In her panic, Kay had picked up her own spare house key, not her mom's. Just force the door, she said. Deputy Chad Moose, excellent cop name, forced the door open and went in. Deputies made Kay wait outside. moose tried to open the door to the kitchen but there was resistance from the other side he pushed it open just enough to take one step inside and take a look the main smell in the kitchen was from a pot of beans on the stove top that had been left to burn all night but deputy moose also smelled dried blood Catherine Miller's body was on the kitchen floor, slumped against the refrigerator, sitting in a puddle of cool blood. Moose checked her pulse, but it was clear that Catherine was dead. There were two large, bloody gunshot wounds in the top of her head, plain to see through her thin white hair. There was blood spatter on the fridge and wall and ceiling.

Right away, Moose could picture a rough outline of what had happened. 77-year-old Catherine had been shoved down to the ground, and while she had been shoved down to the ground, and while she struggled to get up, her assailant had stood over her and shot her twice in the head. Bam-Bam. Execution style. There were signs the house had been ransacked. Sort of. Catherine's coffee table had been tipped over, but the bank bag full of notes on the chair right beside it hadn't been touched. A drawer of silverware was open, but nothing had been taken out of it.

In Catherine's bedroom, the drawers had been yanked out of her dressers, which wasn't unusual in a burglary. and what was weird was that the clothes from the dresser had been stacked in neat little piles on the floor. Who does this sound like? Catherine had had several guns, quite a bit of jewelry, and a bunch of cash in her house, and none of it had been taken. All that was missing was her purse. Now there's staging a crime scene, and then there's half-assed staging a crime scene, and this was definitely the latter, and the investigators saw through it immediately. There was no question of this being the infamous robbery gone.

wrong. Catherine Miller had been deliberately targeted and murdered. After Jason learned his grandmother who he loved was dead, he and McKell went driving. After a while, he'd gone to see LC. Jason didn't know quite how creepy Elsie had gotten with his mom, and he was a cop. Jason wanted to talk to him about what had happened. Elsie didn't seem remotely surprised or shocked to learn that Catherine was dead. He just asked Jason some weird questions about police tracking dogs, then offered to give Jason some money. He'd never done that before, and Jason said he didn't need any. When Jason told Kay about this, she right away thought about her mom's missing purse, which always had cash in it. Forensics wouldn't be able to identify any prints from Catherine's house other than her own.

LC made a point of telling several people that his prince would probably be there, since he'd been there a few times. Oh, and he'd also showered there after doing yard work once, just in case any of his hairs were in the bathtub or drain or anything. You know, just washing off dirt and sweat, definitely not blood and gunshot residue. Later that same day, Catherine's wallet and credit cards were found in the gutter in a neighborhood with a bad reputation for drug activity, which was about as convincing as the terrible staging in the house. Each card had been carefully wiped clean before it was tossed. Kay and Jason were both devastated by Catherine's death. Kay said she went numbly through the next days as neighbors and friends came around to console her, and she was scared to

leave the house. When she went to her mom's funeral, she asked a friend who was a retired FBI agent to house sit for her. She was scared she'd come back and find someone in her house. Someone. As soon as she learned her mom had been killed, Kay thought of Elsie. But she'd mostly talked herself out of it. He couldn't have. Could he? Right after her mom's funeral, Kay got a call from Sweden, from one of Victor's friends who was worried about him. In the aftermath of her mom's death, K had understandedly forgotten all about Victor. Now she started to worry that something might have happened to him too. She called the sheriff's office to report him missing. Victor's apartment manager had already made a similar report, but it happened that SBI agent Don Gale, who was

investigating Catherine Miller's murder, was there when Kay called in. There was a murdered woman and a missing man, and Kay Whedon was the common factor. The local police knew all about K&LC, of course. An officer first came by to talk to Elsie the evening of the day Catherine his body had been found. He was all wide-eyed, innocent. Oh, he loved Mrs. Miller. She was a sweet old lady. He didn't love Jason, though. In fact, he started ranting about the kids so much. It was hard to get him to stop. He was a spoiled brat. He drank. He stole. He took drugs. He even hit his mother. None of this was true, but he repeated the spiel the next time the cops talked to him. By the third time, with all the subtlety of a landslide, he tried to reel the

cops in, clearly thinking they were idiots. He'd first learned about Catherine's death when Jason had come over. Jason was acting real strange that day, Elsie said. He wasn't crying or upset. He really wanted to clean up his car. Like,

yeah, and I'm wondering if that money that he offered him actually did come from Catherine and would have had her prints on it. Oh, for sure. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yep. He's a piece of work. But getting rid of everyone he hated around Kay would be a real clean sweet for him, huh? Yep. It's a while. It's the worst thing you could possibly do. I mean, you know, if you really want to devastate somebody, that's the way to do it.

Yeah. He also rewrote his relationship with Kay. We broke up several months ago. I was the one to end it. Kay was getting too possessive. And I felt like I was getting smothered. See, Kay had been calling my house, harassing me on the phone. It got so bad that I had her number blocked on my phone. Pot, kettle. Like what? Like, so he knew, that's what blows my mind is because sometimes with these people, like, they genuinely don't think they're doing anything wrong. They, like, think they're destined to be with them.

But, like, he knew. He knew that he was wrong. Oh, yeah, he's just lying. Yeah. The investigators knew this was horseshit, but they didn't press the issue yet, just like they didn't call him out on all the other. lies and contradictions they'd already call them in. Within days of Catherine's death, they'd gotten four separate reports of a deep red or wine-colored 70s car parked close to Catherine Miller's house

on the night she was killed. One of Elsie's cars was a 1979 burgundy Monte Carlo. They felt sure Elsie was their killer, but they didn't have enough to pull him in yet. It would take the discovery of Victor Gunnersen's body to do that. Sergeant Paula May and Agent Don Gale searched Elsie Underwood's home with crime scene technicians. They had bullets for from both murders and wanted to find the weapons that had fired them. Elsie's house was eerily sparse and clean. It didn't look like anybody lived there at all. Things were weirdly, obsessively ordered.

In his kitchen cabinets, the soup cans were arranged in perfect lines, alphabetized, and all turned so their labels faced outward. In Elsie's closet, his shirts were all ironed, all facing the same direction, and the hangers were carefully spaced exactly the same distance apart. below them were ten pairs of near-identical dress shoes with the tassels secured with rubber bands. These were apparently the only shoes he owned. On almost every wall, there were professionally framed pictures of LC and various letters of appreciation and commendation he'd accrued over the years. Beside his phone was a notebook.

In it, he'd written a numbered list of everything he owned over several pages. But the list started with number 11. numbers 1 through 10 were on a separate page after everything else. Sergeant May figured that maybe his original list had been honest and the first page had included a 38 special revolver, the weapon used to kill Catherine Miller. After she was killed, LC had torn out that page. Sure enough, forensic analysis would determine indentations of 38 revolver

were still on the second page. Evidence, but nonspecific evidence. The house had provided evidence of Elsie's weirdness, but not a whole lot else. Both of LC's cars were towed to a police garage for inspection. The cars were spotless, which was to be expected for LC. Even the engines looked like they'd been polished. The mats in both trunks looked like they'd been recently clean,

but were taken for analysis anyway. The investigators weren't optimistic. LC was a neat freak anyway. When he took extra effort to clean up, there wasn't much chance he'd missed something. But he had. On the underside of the trunk lid in the Monte Carlo, there was what looked very much like a man's shoe print. There aren't many good ways that a shoe print is going to end up on the inside of a car trunk.

The investigators thought that if a man was bound and on his belly in the trunk and kicked upwards with his feet, it would make a mark just like that. Elsie had taken his Monte Carlo in to have it professionally cleaned and had paid special attention to the trunk mats, having them washed twice. Nevertheless, the forensics lab found 17 hares on the trunk mat that in an initial microscope analysis looked like a match for Victor Gunnerson. A conclusive DNA test would take longer, but this was enough for a grand jury to give the okay for some habeas grabbous on Elsie Underwood. Deputy swarmed him as soon as he pulled out of his driveway. He was charged with the first-degree murder and first-degree kidnapping of Victor Gunnerson.

When the DNA analysis came back as a match, Elsie's goose was cooked like Christmas dinner. You know, he really should have just been a cleaner. Like, he should have started his own specialty cleaning business. And he could have, like, really done something. Because I'd love to have him come over and clean our house. You can put my soup cans in alphabetical order. That'd be great.

But no, we had to try and be a cop and get a power trip. And, you know, oy. In the county jail, Elsie had his own cell, which was normal for especially violent or notorious. offenders. Kind of catty corner across from him was another cell with only one occupant, Lisa Collins, currently the only female prisoner. They would have this hall of jailhouse to themselves for about six months and eventually developed as much of a romantic relationship as you can in two separate cells. And according to Lisa, LC eventually admitted to and described both

murders. The thing about that is Lisa was in for multiple frauds and was caught in several lies, so she's not exactly the best witness, but it's from her that we get our best picture of what happened to Victor. The night Kay and Victor had slept together, Elsie had had a friend in the department run the plates on Victor's car to get his address. Then he'd gone home and gotten one of his uniform shirts, an old pair of handcuffs, and rolls of electrical and masking tape. He thought he'd had duct tape, but couldn't find it.

He drove to Victor's apartment complex and waited. He had his badge on, on one pocket of his shirt. shirt but had taken the nameplate off the other just in case he was seen. He waited till Victor came home, then went up and knocked on the door. Victor answered the door in black briefs and a robe. Salisbury PD, Elsie said. Elsie told him he needed to talk to him about his car and Victor put on some slip-on shoes and followed him downstairs. Once they were there, Elsie said it was too cold to talk outside. They should get into his car. Then he shoved Victor against the car and with practice skill handcuffed him.

Are you arresting me, Victor said? Elsie said, get in the car. When they were in, Victor had more questions, but Elsie yelled at him until he shut up. Elsie drove them out to the dark country road and killed the engine. Move and I'll kill you, he said, then wrapped electrical tape around Victor's wrists before taking off the cuffs. He popped the trunk open, then took out his revolver, got out of the car, and walked around to Victor's side and opened the door.

He walked Victor to the back of the car. at gunpoint, then had him lay down on the asphalt. There, he bound Victor's feet together with electrical tape. He wrapped the electrical tape all around Victor's head, then masking tape when that ran out, only leaving his nose clear so Victor could breathe.

He forced Victor into the trunk and slammed it closed. Moments later, the car started moving again. Victor was trapped in the trunk for a couple of hours as Elsie drove, bound and blind and terrified and increasingly cold. He only had on briefs and a robe as

the car drove into the freezing winter night of the mountains. He might even had drifted into the dreamy state of early hypothermia. Eventually, the car stopped, and Elsie opened the trunk and manhandled the stiff and cold Victor out onto the roadside beside a wooded hill. Protting him in the back with his gun, Elsie forced Victor to stumble into the woods. He knew he'd found a good spot when he saw a fallen pine tree. A body could stay hidden in the shadow of the fallen trunk forever. He shot Victor.

the bullet went into the side of his neck, making a small hole. Victor fell onto his side. Elsie kicked him onto his back, put the gun close to Victor's temple, and fired again. Victor was dead, but Elsie still had work to do. He cut the tape off of Victor's body with his knife, then stripped off his robe, briefs, and shoes, wadding everything into a ball. He walked away, leaving Victor Gunnerson dead and naked on the forest floor. Unnoticed, one length of tape with a clear 22-gauge box. bullet hole in it fell free from the bundle.

Lisa Collins was too unreliable to put on the witness stand, but there was plenty of evidence against Elsie without her. Elsie Underwood was convicted of first-degree murder and first-degree kidnapping and sentenced to life plus 40 years. Much of the frustration of investigators and Kay Whedon, he was never charged for the murder of Catherine Miller. Apparently, prosecutors sought the evidence for that case was too thin, and they worried that if Elsie skated on that charge, it might help him with his appeals in the Gunnerson convictions. Yeah.

Why he killed Catherine only makes sense if you try and think like Elsie. He had to have Kay, and he wanted her all to himself. Catherine had been encouraging Kay to break up with him. Without her interference, maybe Kay would take him back and stay with him. And if he managed to get Jason put away for her murder,

then, hey, Kay would have no one but him. It's psychopath logic. Anyone between Elsie and what he wanted was expendable. Elsie Underwood died in prison on December 23rd, 2018 of kidney cancer. When Paula May called Kay Whedon on Christmas Day to tell her, Kay burst into tears and said it was the best Christmas present anyone could ever have given her. Both she and Jason went on investigation discovery years later to talk about the smoking crater this man made in their lives, and you can tell it's taken a huge toll on them,

and even in their relationship with each other, which is interesting and sad. But now that he's out of their lives for, forever out of everybody's lives. We hope they'll be able to heal. So that was a wild one, right campers? You know, we'll have another one for you next week. But for now, lock your doors, light your lights, and stay safe until we get together again around the true crime campfire. And as always, we want to send a grateful shout out to a few of our lovely patrons. Thank you so much to Dawn, Angel, Carrie, Ava, Witt, Lisa, Jallison, and Marissa. We appreciate y'all to the moon and back. And if you're not yet a patron, you're missing out.

patrons of our show get every episode ad-free at least a day early sometimes even two plus tons of extra content like patrons-only episodes and hilarious post-show discussions and once you hit the $5 and up categories you get even more cool stuff a free sticker at $5 a radd enamel pin

while supplies last at 10 virtual events with Katie and me and we're always looking for new stuff to do for you so if you can come join us at patreon.com slash true crime campfire for great TCC merch visit the true crime campfire store at spreadshirt.com. Check out our website at truecrimecampfirepod.com and leave us a nice review. It makes our day.