Rotten Mango

It was going to be a long day - just like the movies. Each housewife was getting ready, staring into the mirror, clasping on their string of pearls.

They hated these gatherings. All the other moms, bratty children, and don’t even get them started on the attorneys that shuffled into the room. Tensions were high. The 5 moms in total hated each other.

Technically they should have a lot in common - being that they are all married to high-powered businessmen.

They had similar problems but the biggest one of all? Was that they were all dating the same man. And now he was dead. Who killed him? And who will inherit his fortune?

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She wore a turtleneck out to the grocery store that day. Sure, a blizzard was coming down on them, but she did it to hide the bruises.

She looked around at all the happy faces. The smiling couples. They were so in love. If only they could see what she was going through at home. She couldn’t tell them instead she suffered silently gathering up her groceries.

Maybe she heard the other families talking about the winter storm or the news of the escaped prisoner.

You know? The one in her living room waiting for her return. The one that had her entire family tied up upstairs? Yeah, that one. She had to hurry back to him.

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It had been months since Abby had been held captive in the bucker/torture chamber. The cruelest torture had been carried out on her, every single day.

She wanted it all to be over. It didn’t matter anymore that she would never graduate the 7th grade. Nothing mattered except making sure her kidnapper paid for this.

Abby wrote a note, naming her kidnapper, and what he had done to her before slipping it into the lining of her shoe. She hoped whoever found her would find the note.

And then she filled the tiny gross sink in the corner of her cell, one of the only things that filled the tiny space, and prepared herself to end it all.

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Nicole’s phone had been ringing nonstop. It felt like the end of her 15-year-old life. Someone was going around calling Nicole’s friends to tell them nasty rumors about Nicole. How she had no eyebrows, she got ugly, she was talking bad about them, and how she had AIDs.

It sounds ridiculous, but to Nicole this was her life. Someone was out there trying to take her down. Take her crown of being the most popular girl in school.

She would not stand for it. When she found out who did it - she would do anything to stop them.

This is the story of how 8 high school kids played a hand in a 14-year-old girl’s brutal murder.

Book: “Under The Bridge” - by Rebecca Godfrey (the best deep dive you will get on this case - she really shed light into the victim’s life and struggles.)

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There were always 12. 10 foster kids in the house at all times, plus the two biological children of the Baker parents. 12 kids.

All 12 kids would grow up to see some heinous things. It’s alleged that the Bakers would force the foster boys to molest the foster girls in their care.

It’s said that the Bakers would even force brothers to inappropriately touch sisters under their direction. Victims came forward to say they were assaulted weekly by Mr. Baker, and they remember being starved as a fear tactic.

Most of these kids came out of the foster home as survivors, but one, one child grew up to become the predator. One that would prey on victims where they might be the most vulnerable - the church.

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She never used to sleepwalk, but maybe that’s what happens when you hit your 30s? Her life was spiraling out of control because of it.

She woke up one morning dangling off the side of 4th-floor balcony. She had no idea how she even got there. She could have seriously hurt herself or even died… she was just thankful he was there to save her.

Or that time she woke up covered in blood. He told her that he found her roaming around at night, in a daze, with a knife in her hand. He thinks she murdered someone…

She started panicking. That’s exactly what he wanted. If history had taught him anything, it was that she was close. Close to taking her own life. He wanted to break her.

National Human Trafficking Hotline: 1(888) 373-7888

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It sounded like a new age of crime. We’ve all heard of jealousy being the motivation behind the murder, but this was a bit different.

She was jealous that Naomi was a bigger “influencer” than she was. She hated that she was getting all the love, the likes, the follows. She was going to put a stop to it. Her brilliant plan? Have her boyfriend assault Naomi so that she would be too traumatized to work again.

The plan spiraled out of control, and Naomi ended up murdered. But this case is far from simple. The boyfriend was the son of Cartier’s Chairman in Asia. As new information came out - people found themselves changing their minds nonstop. Did she really kill out of jealousy? Did she even know?

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He called it the “bear cave.” He liked the sound of it. Bears were unassuming predators… that kind of sounded like him.

Inside his “bear cave” there was a desk, an inviting yellow beanbag, and of course, it was filled with snacks and sodas.

Don’t forget his hidden condom box, a stack of porn magazines, and pillows hidden in a box that said “Christmas decorations.”

The only really odd thing about his “cave?” - it was in the library of a local middle school.

The teacher had been using it to sexually molest and rape dozens of middle school students.

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Both men were racing in their cars for different reasons.

Peter was stepping on the pedal to his wife. She was sick, and he needed to get to her ASAP. He was worried for her.

Larry was in his car - racing to his girlfriend, who wasn’t picking up his calls. He was worried for her.

Both men were gripping their steering wheels till their knuckles turned white. They were both racing to the same woman. They both knew it. Maybe they hoped whoever got their first would get her love.

But both would walk away without her. She would choose neither of them because someone had taken her life.

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Tom was shaking after the call. A mysterious woman had called to tell him that she knew where his missing mother was. He didn’t know if it was a scam or a real lead. All he knew was that the police weren’t doing enough.

So that’s how he found himself at a random Starbucks waiting for the mysterious caller. When she walked in, he knew that she had something up her sleeve. The confidence. The secrets behind her eyes.

At the end of their meeting, he passed him a piece of paper with a number on there…

“I’m part of the Triad here in Vancouver, and we know what happened to your mom. Don’t trust the police. Trust me. I can help. Call us.”

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