Disappeared: Cases That Need Answers
01:04:15 Share

This episode is brought to you by Progressive Insurance. Fiscally responsible. Financial geniuses. Monetary magicians. These are things people say about drivers who switch their car insurance to Progressive and save hundreds. Visit Progressive.com to see if you could save. Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and Affiliates. Potential savings will vary. Not available in all states or situations. Save me, sweetie.

The reality is guys prefer naturals. And if it's natural body wash you're looking for, Dr. Squatch has got you natural kings covered. The ingredients? Naturals. Scent options? Naturals. Around-the-clock moisturization? Naturally. Now available in-store and online at drsquatch.com. Dr. Squatch Body Wash for men who prefer natural. In the small, quiet town of Shelby, North Carolina...

Nine-year-old Asha Degree lived a life that seemed as steady and predictable as the seasons. Asha was a bright, shy, and gentle child known for her maturity beyond her years. Her family described her as responsible and dependable, the kind of girl who rarely gave her parents, Harold and Akilah, any reason to worry. Together with her older brother, they formed a close-knit family, each deeply devoted to one another. Asha loved her school life.

her friends, and the comfort of her daily routines. She was a budding athlete, full of promise on the basketball court, where she played for her elementary school team, the Bulldogs, something that was a source of pride for the young woman. Life for Asha was a gentle rhythm of school, sports, family dinners, and bedtime routines, seemingly unbreakable, unshakable, and filled with love. But life, as we know, doesn't always follow a predictable path.

For Asha, a moment was approaching that would take her story in a direction no one could foresee, setting in motion a mystery that still echoes in her community and beyond. Asha's world revolved around her family, her school, and her faith. She was known as a quiet and conscientious child, always eager to please and careful not to step out of line. Her parents worked hard to provide a secure and loving environment for their two children,

Asha's parents were particularly strict about shielding her and her brother from outside influences. They didn't have a home computer, and their access to television was limited. Their aim was to keep their children focused on their studies and their faith, preserving their innocence for as long as possible. Despite her quiet nature, Asha was also filled with excitement and curiosity, qualities that came alive on the basketball court.

She was one of the youngest members of her team, yet her passion and determination shone brightly just before the events that would change everything. Asha's team had played an important tournament game on February 12, 2000, a Saturday. Though the team lost, Asha had been in high spirits afterward, laughing and playing with her teammates. Her family believed her dreams and future were just beginning to take shape.

That night, Asha went to bed after a long day of activities, her heart likely still full from the excitement of her game. Her parents checked on her and her brother, ensuring they were tucked safely into bed. Little did they know that this simple bedtime routine would be one of the last moments they would ever spend with Asha. The early morning of February 13th seemed like any other.

Rain began to pour down in the early hours, creating a dreary atmosphere that matched the heavy clouds blanketing the sky. By 2:30 AM, a severe storm hit the area, and at some point, the degree's power went out briefly. In the darkness, Asha was quietly stirring, packing her small backpack with a few belongings, including her favorite Tweety Bird purse, a t-shirt, and some candy. Why she packed her things, no one knows.

What motivated her actions that night remains one of the most confounding aspects of her case. At around 3:30 AM, Asha left her house. In the pitch black, in the middle of a heavy storm, this little girl stepped outside and walked into the unknown. It was around 4:00 AM when two motorists would spot her walking along Highway 18, a desolate stretch with nothing but the sound of rain and the occasional car in the early morning hours.

One driver, deeply shaken by seeing this young girl, turned around to check on the child, but by the time he returned, Asha was gone. She had disappeared into the darkness. The early sightings on the highway raised questions. Why would a young girl venture out alone at such an hour, especially in a downpour? Was she frightened by something? Was there a reason she felt compelled to leave, or could she have been led by someone she trusted? These questions would only grow as more details of that night came to light.

When Asha's parents woke up that morning, they found her bed empty. Panic set in immediately. Asha was not the type of child to wander off. Her mother checked every corner of the house, hoping she'd simply fallen asleep somewhere out of sight. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear that Asha was nowhere in the house. Harold and Akilah called the police, and within hours, the first searches began. Search dogs, however, were unable to pick up Asha's scent, and as word of her disappearance spread,

Volunteers and police scoured the area, combing fields, roadsides, and wooded areas nearby. Their efforts were intense, but also unsuccessful. After hours of searching, they found their first clue: Asha's hair bow lying in the grass near the highway where she had last been seen. It was a heart-wrenching discovery, one that confirmed she had indeed left on her own. Days went by with no new leads. Days stretched to weeks, then months.

Ten months later, a shocking discovery was made. Asha's book bag was found, wrapped in a plastic bag, along a stretch of highway nearly 26 miles from her home. Inside were several of her belongings, including a photograph of an unidentified girl, as well as some personal items. The discovery added layers to the mystery. Someone had taken the time to protect her book bag from the elements, but why? And who was the unknown girl in the photo?

As investigators examined the evidence, a web of theories began to form. Why did Asha leave? Was she meeting someone? Could she have been tricked into thinking she was going on some sort of adventure? The items in her backpack seemed carefully chosen, as if she had packed with intention, but the reasons behind her actions remain elusive. One theory suggested that Asha might have been lured by someone she knew, someone who had gained her trust, yet her parents and community

couldn't think of anyone who would have that level of influence over her. Asha was a cautious, shy child, not one to take risks. If she had met someone, it would have been someone she trusted deeply. Another theory proposes that Asha had been influenced by a story, or something she'd seen that inspired her to leave. In school, her class had recently read "The Whipping Boy", a story about children who run away from home. Investigators speculated that Asha

An avid reader with an active imagination might have been inspired by this tale of adventure, but for her to leave in the dead of night on her own during a storm, it seemed almost impossible to believe. Despite exhaustive searches, appeals to the public, and sporadic tips, the case remains as cold as it was on that dark February morning. The FBI has continued to investigate, and every so often, a lead comes in, but none have brought answers.

The book bag, the unidentified photo, and the sightings on the highway all remain part of a tangled web that has yet to reveal the full picture. Asha Degree's case has haunted her community and captivated the nation. Her family has kept her memory alive with annual marches and community events, reminding people that she is still out there, waiting to be found. The story has been featured on news segments, podcasts, and true crime shows. It's a case that tugs at the heartstrings.

A story of a young girl who vanished under circumstances that defy logic. Years have passed, yet the pain has not faded for Harold or Akilah Degree. They continue to hold onto hope that one day Asha will come home, that they'll find the answers they need. The FBI has offered a reward, and occasionally a tip will come out, sparking renewed hope. But without any substantial breakthroughs, Asha's case remains an open wound for both her family and her community.

The mystery of Asha Degree's disappearance endures, leaving behind countless questions. What led her to leave that night? Did she willingly walk into the unknown, or was she manipulated by someone who preyed upon her trust? Her story is a reminder of how fragile and unpredictable life can be, even in the safety of one's own home. A young girl, full of dreams and potential, seemingly vanished into thin air, leaving behind only a scattering of clues.

For the Degree family, the wait for answers seems unending. They cling to the belief that one day they'll find their daughter or learn what happened on that fateful night. And for the public, Asha's story stands as a chilling testament to the mysteries that sometimes evade answers, leaving questions that may linger indefinitely. As we share this story, we know that this tale has been shared many times over. If you have any thoughts or ideas of your own about what happened to Asha,

I invite you to share them in the comments down below. This is a heartbreaking case that I hope one day finds its resolution, and for that to happen, it's important to keep it in mind and not to let it or the memory of Asha Degree fade away. Alright, let's talk about something that's been keeping me motivated and actually fitting into my crazy schedule. Peloton. Whether you're in your holiday era, wellness era, or just trying to make it through the week era,

Peloton's got something to keep you on track with your goals. I know how hard it can be to squeeze in a workout between everything else going on, but Peloton's variety of classes really helps. You can choose from Pilates, yoga, running, meditations, you name it. And the best part is, they offer classes of all lengths. So even if you've only got 10, 20, or 45 minutes, you can make it work.

Plus, with the Peloton All Access membership, you're not limited to one place. You can use the bike, tread, row, or just the app on your phone if you're on the go. At home, at the park, even at your kid's sporting event. So whatever your fitness goals, Peloton gives you the freedom and flexibility to find what works best for you. Check it out and start moving through life's eras with a little extra motivation.

Find your push. Find your power with Peloton at onepeloton.com. Hey everyone. With the holiday season fast approaching, we're all looking for ways to simplify life and save a bit too. That's where HelloFresh comes in. They deliver delicious chef-designed recipes right to my door, making mealtime almost effortless. It's way easier and way cheaper than takeout, which is perfect during these busy weeks ahead.

I've got to say, I'm loving the variety HelloFresh offers. Whether I'm craving comfort food or something lighter, they have 50 new recipes every week. Plus, with options like calorie-smart meals, I can eat well without spending a ton of time in the kitchen. And for Thanksgiving, their HelloFresh Market has all sorts of crowd-pleasing treats that are minimal effort with maximum wow factor. So if you're ready to stress less and enjoy more, give HelloFresh a try.

Get 10 free meals at HelloFresh.com slash Free Malevolent Mischief. Applied across 7 boxes, new subscribers only. Varies by plan. That's 10 free HelloFresh meals. Just go to HelloFresh.com slash Free Malevolent Mischief. Try HelloFresh today. There's a reason they're America's number one meal kit. In 1953, in the town of La Crosse, Wisconsin,

A 15-year-old girl named Evelyn Hartley lived with her family. She was the quintessential all-American teenager, studious, reliable, and close to her family. Her father, Richard, was a biology professor at the local college, and Evelyn was one of his five children. Described as a bright, responsible young woman, Evelyn was known to be cautious and careful, a young lady with a promising future, on an October night that should have been ordinary.

Evelyn left her house to babysit for a family friend. Her plan was simple: help watch the family's young daughter and return home by midnight. But that night, Evelyn stepped into the unknown, setting in motion events that would confound her family and the community of La Crosse for decades. What began as a typical evening soon became a terrifying and long-lasting mystery. Evelyn Grace Hartley was a sophomore in high school, involved in her studies and planning for college.

She had grown up in a close-knit family, deeply rooted in their community, where her father's work as a college professor made them rather well-known. A talented student on her own, with dreams of a bright future, Evelyn was known for being dependable and kind. Her parents had instilled a strong sense of responsibility and caution in her from an early age. That fall of 1953 was typical in many ways.

Evelyn was busy with school, her friends, and family activities. On October 24th, she was set to babysit for the Rasmussen family, neighbors who lived just a short distance from her home. The plan was simple: she would watch over their young child, settle in with her books, and then head home when her job was done. It was a familiar routine that she had done several times before, enough to put her parents at ease. But as the night unfolded,

Evelyn's fate would turn in ways no one could have predicted. That October evening, Evelyn arrived at the Rasmussen home at around 6:30 PM, greeting Mr. and Mrs. Rasmussen before they left for an evening out. The Rasmussen's one-year-old daughter was already asleep in her crib, leaving Evelyn with a quiet night ahead of her. She had brought along her textbooks, planning to study while babysitting, a reflection of her responsible and diligent nature. Hours passed without incident.

But when 8:30 p.m. came and went, Evelyn's father, Richard, grew concerned. He had made it a habit to check in on his daughter whenever she babysat, a safety measure to make sure everything was as it should be. When he called the Rasmussen home and received no answer, he tried his best not to let it worry him. He assumed Evelyn might have been busy tending to the baby, preparing a meal, or simply not having heard the phone ring. At 9:00 p.m., Richard tried calling yet again,

This time, the silence that met him felt ominous. There was still no answer. With every passing minute, a sense of urgency grew within him. He decided to go over to the Rasmussen house himself, hoping to find that his daughter had simply been too engrossed in her studies to notice the phone. When he arrived at his neighbor's home, everything appeared normal from the outside, but as he approached, he noticed something strange. The house was silent. There was no movement inside, no sign of his daughter.

Richard tried the door, but it was locked. His heart pounded as he walked around to the back, peering through windows, searching for any sign of Evelyn. Finally, as he reached a basement window, he saw it. A shoe lying on the ground outside, small and familiar, he recognized it as being Evelyn's. Richard Hartley's discovery at the Rasmussen home would be only the beginning of the mystery. He soon noticed that the basement window was slightly ajar, and the screen had been pried off.

The shoe lying nearby looked as though it had been tossed there in haste. Fear gripped him as he realized something was terribly wrong. Desperate, he broke into the house through the basement window and began searching for his daughter. Inside, the scene was off. Evelyn's textbooks were scattered across the living room floor, as if abandoned in a hurry. A pair of her eyeglasses, something that she rarely took off, lay broken on the ground. The house was eerily silent, with no other sign of a struggle.

but the scattered items suggested something had interrupted her night in a sudden and frightening way. Richard immediately contacted the police, who arrived at the scene to begin their investigation. What they found sent shivers throughout the community. The basement window had been forcibly opened, and footprints led from the window to the yard, eventually disappearing into the grass. They also discovered bloodstains both inside and outside the home.

signs that suggested Evelyn had been injured. The police collected samples and began piecing together what little evidence they had. Thankfully, keeping the story from being any more disturbing, the Rasmussens' young child was found upstairs in her crib, safe from any harm. It appeared that whatever had happened to Evelyn, the toddler slept soundly through it. Evelyn's disappearance was unlike anything the town had ever seen. La Crosse was a safe, quiet place,

a town where families trusted their neighbors and even left their doors unlocked. Now, the unthinkable had happened, and every resident felt its weight. Parents tightened their reins on their children, fearful that another disappearance might follow. Evelyn's case had shifted the very atmosphere of the town. In the days that followed, La Crosse was transformed into a hive of search activity. Local authorities, state officials, and volunteers combed through the surrounding area.

Desperate for any sign of Evelyn, bloodhounds were brought in to track her scent, leading them to nearby roads. Before eventually, the trail went cold. With little to go on, police began focusing on the clues they had collected at the Rasmussen home. They noted that the bloodstains outside indicated that Evelyn might have been carried away, possibly in a vehicle, which explained why the scent trail ended so abruptly. Tire tracks nearby hinted at the possibility that whoever had taken her

had planned an escape. Interviews with neighbors yielded few results, though some recalled seeing a car circling the neighborhood earlier that evening. A local farmer reported hearing a girl's screams at around 7pm, but no one else reported anything unusual that night. The community struggled to process the fact that Evelyn had disappeared in such a public way, with only the scattered remnants of her belongings as evidence.

The investigation became more intense as the local police collaborated with the FBI to explore every possible lead. Flyers were posted throughout the state of Wisconsin, and a local reward was offered in hopes of attracting new information. Still, despite the efforts, no new developments emerged. The little evidence they had, blood samples, footprints, and tire tracks, weren't enough to piece together a full picture of what had happened that night.

As the investigation continued, theories began to emerge, each one more troubling than the last. Police examined potential suspects, many of whom were local men with criminal histories. One name that repeatedly surfaced was Ed Gein, a notorious figure who would later become infamous for his crimes in Wisconsin. However, no solid connections could be made, and this theory eventually faded.

Another suspect was a local man who had recently escaped from a nearby mental institution, known for violent tendencies. He seemed like a plausible candidate, yet despite extensive questioning, no concrete evidence could tie him to Evelyn's case, and he too was eventually ruled out. Some investigators speculated that Evelyn's disappearance might have been the work of an opportunistic predator, someone who had been watching her, waiting for a moment when she would be alone.

This theory pointed to a premeditated abduction, suggesting that her kidnapper may have planned his actions carefully, waiting for an evening when he knew she would be babysitting. There was also a theory suggesting that Evelyn might have known her abductor, that the person who took her had approached her in a familiar way, making her feel safe enough to open the front door. However, Evelyn's friends and family couldn't think of anyone who fit this profile. She was careful, even cautious around strangers.

and there was no one in her life who would have raised any suspicions. With no firm suspects, some speculated that Evelyn's abduction might have been connected to a string of similar disappearances in neighboring states, ones where young women had vanished under circumstances that bore eerie similarities. But once again, no solid links could be made. As the days progressed into weeks and then moved into months,

The townspeople became deeply invested in the search for Evelyn. Residents gathered for candlelight vigils, offered emotional and financial support to the Hartley family, and formed volunteer groups to assist law enforcement with ongoing searches. The Hartley family was left with a pain they carried each and every day, never receiving the answers they so desperately sought. They placed their hope in the authorities, clinging to the possibility that Evelyn might one day be found. Her case received extensive coverage,

with newspapers detailing every new lead, every suspect, and every development, no matter how small. For years, Evelyn's parents continued their quiet vigil, maintaining her room just as she'd left it and holding onto the possibility, however faint, that she might one day return. Over time, they became more withdrawn, but they never stopped cooperating with investigators, hoping for any breakthrough that would provide the closure they needed.

Evelyn's case became a constant topic of local conversation, remaining an unsolved question that would eventually be passed from one generation to the next. For her family, the uncertainty surrounding her disappearance was a painful and daily reality. Evelyn Hartley's disappearance speaks to the rare and tragic mysteries that sometimes defy explanation. On a night that should have been routine, a 15-year-old girl with a bright future simply vanished.

leaving behind only fragments of a story that's never been fully told. Her case continues to raise questions and inspire theories, yet no one has ever been able to piece together the full truth of what happened in 1953. For the people of La Crosse, Evelyn's case serves as a constant thread woven into their history, a question that remains, waiting for answers that likely may never come. For those who remember Evelyn,

Her story is a reminder of innocence lost, of lives interrupted, and of the search for closure that still eludes them. Evelyn's story urges us to remember that while the answers may never come, the search should never end. Even with the passing of time, her family, both past and present, along with everyone who remembers, deserves to know the truth. Some mysteries may resist resolution, but that doesn't mean we should ever stop looking.

Hey guys, as the days are getting cooler, I've been slowly transforming my wardrobe for fall, and quints has become my secret weapon. Honestly, nothing says fall better than a soft, cozy sweater. That's why I'm loving Quints' Mongolian cashmere sweaters. They start at just 50 bucks, which is an incredible deal for cashmere. But Quints doesn't stop there. They've got beautiful leather jackets, cotton cardigans, ultra-soft denim, and more.

all priced 50-80% less than similar brands. How? By partnering directly with top factories and skipping the middleman, meaning we get the savings directly. And knowing Quince is committed to safe, ethical, and sustainable manufacturing just makes every piece feel that much better. So whether you're refreshing your fall wardrobe or just grabbing some essentials, Quince makes it easy to stay stylish, warm, and totally guilt-free.

I just got one of Quince's ultra cozy cashmere sweaters for myself, and it's every bit as luxurious as it sounds. The softness and warmth are on par with high-end brands, but at only $50? It's a steal compared to typical prices. Compared to other luxury cashmere I've tried, this sweater holds its own in both style and quality. It's incredibly well made, and perfect for layering as the weather cools down. Affordable cashmere? Yes please.

If you want Luxe cozy essentials without breaking the bank, Quince has totally nailed it. Get cozy in Quince's high-quality wardrobe essentials. Go to quince.com slash mischief for free shipping on your order and 365-day returns. That's q-u-i-n-c-e dot com slash mischief to get free shipping and 365-day returns. quince.com slash mischief

Thank you.

and people helping truckers fill up and get maintenance at our convenient locations. They're part of the more than 300,000 jobs BP supports across the country. Learn more at BP.com/InvestingInAmerica. Springfield, Missouri is the kind of town where neighbors wave from their porches, where everyone knows each other's business, and where secrets are hard to keep. In the summer of 1992, life in Springfield felt like a picture of small-town American comfort.

It was a time when people were unquestioningly welcoming, trusting that danger lay far beyond their quiet town. On the warm evening of June 6th, three women, Cheryl Levitt, her teenage daughter Susie Streeter, and Susie's friend Stacey McCall, were planning a simple yet enjoyable night. The two young girls had just graduated from high school, a moment that marked the beginning of new adventures.

The night was filled with celebration, laughter, and the sense of freedom that comes with youth. Cheryl, Susie's mother, had spent the evening at home, tidying up and likely feeling proud as she waited for the girls to return from their celebrations. It was meant to be an ordinary yet fun evening. The girls would come home, sleep in late, and the next day they would begin the first days of their new lives. But what happened in the quiet hours after they returned to Cheryl's house on Delmar Street

would forever alter the lives of their loved ones, casting a dark shadow over Springfield. In the days that followed, the once friendly neighborhood would fall under a veil of unease as a mystery took root in their streets. A question whispered behind closed doors. What happened to Cheryl, Susie, and Stacey? To understand the magnitude of what would later be discovered, we have to look at who these three women were.

Cheryl Levitt, a dedicated 47-year-old mother and hairdresser, had moved to the house on Delmar Street with her daughter to build a comfortable, quiet life. Cheryl was meticulous, known for keeping her home spotless and her life organized. Her daughter Susie had a rebellious streak, balanced by her charm and ambition. Susie was passionate about the future, with dreams as bright as her smile.

Her best friend, Stacey McCall, was 18, friendly, and deeply connected to her family and friends. The two young women had formed a bond throughout high school, sharing plans and dreams that they hoped would carry them far. On the night of June 6th, Susie and Stacey joined friends for their high school graduation parties, bouncing from one celebration to another.

Initially, they planned to stay overnight at a friend's house, but as plans shifted, they decided to return to Cheryl's for the night, where they would wake up and begin planning a summer filled with road trips and memories. Cheryl, who had stayed home that evening, likely went to bed anticipating that her daughter and her friend would come back safely, ready for a new day. By the early morning hours of June 7th, the house on East Delmar Street was quiet, the cars sat parked in the driveway,

The porch light cast a soft glow over the yard. To anyone passing by, it was just another Springfield home in the calm of the early morning. But that calm would shatter by daylight, leaving behind questions that no one could answer. By late morning on June 7th, family and friends began to worry. Stacey McCall's mother, Janice, had been expecting her daughter to call, but the phone remained silent. As the hours ticked by, unease crept in.

Stacey hadn't shown up for planned events, and calls to the house went unanswered. Driven by growing worry, Janice made her way to Cheryl's house on Delmar Street to check in on the three women. What she found at the house was strange and altogether unsettling. All three cars, Cheryl's blue Corsica, Susie's red Ford Escort, and Stacey's Toyota Corolla, were lined up in the driveway, undisturbed.

When Janice knocked on the door, there was no answer. She called out, but was met only with silence. To her surprise, the door was unlocked and she stepped inside, hoping to find her daughter asleep or simply unaware of the time. But once inside, it was clear that things didn't feel quite right. Cheryl, Susie, and Stacey's purses were all left out, their personal belongings scattered throughout the living room. The girls' keys and wallets sat on the coffee table.

Even Cheryl's pack of cigarettes, something she rarely went without, lay untouched. The house was clean, orderly, but it felt frozen, as if time had simply stopped. In the bathroom, the light was left on, and Cheryl's bed appeared to have been slept in. The only sign of disruption was a broken globe on the porch light, with glass scattered around the doorstep. It was unclear if this was an accident, a sign of a struggle, or something else entirely.

Despite Janice's calls and searches, there was no trace of the three women. They were just gone. The Springfield police quickly recognized that this was not a simple case of missing persons. Three individuals disappearing without a single sign of struggle or a note of explanation was alarming. Investigators combed through the house, meticulously examining each room, but the home held no answers. No sign of forced entry, no evidence of a fight, nothing to indicate what had happened.

The scene was itself eerie in its lack of clues. The broken porch light stood out as one of the few unexplained elements. Police theorized that perhaps the light had been shattered to lure one of the women outside, creating an opportunity for an ambush. But the theory raised more questions than it gave answers. If someone had broken the light intentionally, how did they manage to subdue all three women without anyone noticing a thing?

One significant issue in the investigation arose almost immediately. The scene had been disturbed. Friends and family, worried and desperate to find their loved ones, had entered the home before police could secure it. In those early hours, potential evidence may have been unknowingly contaminated, or even lost, leaving detectives to piece together an incomplete puzzle. Despite this setback, investigators pressed forward,

examining the women's lives in search of potential motives. They interviewed family members, friends, and coworkers, hoping to uncover any enemies or any apparent conflicts. But no one had a reason to harm Cheryl, Susie, or Stacey. The women led ordinary lives, loved by those around them, with no history of trouble or suspicious associations. As the investigation continued, officers canvassed the neighborhood

knocking on doors and asking if anyone had seen or heard anything unusual. Several neighbors mentioned seeing an unfamiliar vehicle, possibly a van, near Cheryl's home in the early morning hours. The sighting led to speculation and suspicion, but without concrete details, it remained another piece of the ever-growing mystery. As news of the disappearances spread, so did the theories about what might have happened to the Springfield Three.

One of the most prominent early leads involved a green Dodge van reportedly seen near the house around the time the women went missing. Witnesses claimed the van had been idling in the neighborhood, its driver unknown. Police scoured the area and questioned residents, but the van's owner was never located, and the lead faded into obscurity. Then came an anonymous tip.

one claiming that the women's bodies could be found buried beneath the concrete foundation of a parking garage in Webster County. The tip seemed credible enough to warrant investigation, leading to a partial excavation of the area, but after extensive digging, police found no evidence. The tip, like so many before it, led nowhere.

a more ominous suspect emerged in the form of Robert Cox, a convicted kidnapper and violent criminal who had been in Springfield at the time of the disappearances. During interviews with police, Cox provided conflicting statements, once hinting that he knew the three women were dead. But when pressed for details, he offered nothing substantial, claiming he was only speculating, although Cox's background and evasive responses raised red flags

Authorities could find no direct evidence linking him to the crime. Without more proof, he slipped back into the shadows. His role in the mystery? Uncertain, but unforgettable. Years passed, and new theories emerged. Some speculated that the women had been abducted by a serial predator, someone who had watched them from afar, waiting for their perfect moment to strike. Others believe that they may have known their attacker, that someone close to them had gained their trust,

enough so to approach them in the night. Each theory added another layer of complexity, but none offered any definitive answer. As the years continued to roll by, the case of the Springfield Three remained frozen in ambiguity. Questions continued to pile up, each one as perplexing as the last. How did three women disappear without a single trace of struggle? Why were their belongings left behind, untouched, as if they had no intention of ever leaving?

And then there was the matter of timing. Stacey's mother, Janice, had received a call from her daughter earlier in the night, during which Stacey mentioned that they might stay at a friend's house. But when plans changed and they decided to return to Cheryl's home, it unknowingly set them on a course that would leave them lost to the world. This small, last-minute change, a seemingly innocent decision, placed them in harm's way at precisely the wrong moment.

The case grew colder with each passing year, but the questions never faded. Theories continued to circulate, new sightings were reported, but none ever held the weight of evidence. In Springfield, the mystery of the three women left a mark on the community, casting a shadow over an entire generation. The disappearances of Cheryl, Susie, and Stacey changed Springfield forever. The once peaceful town became a place of guarded conversations.

where people locked their doors and parents held their children even closer. Flyers bearing the women's faces decorated every bulletin board and window, reminders of the lives that had been torn away during the dead of night. The families, particularly Stacy's mother Janice McCall, refused to let go of hope. She became an outspoken advocate, tirelessly working to keep the story alive, appearing in interviews and organizing events. Her efforts ensured that the Springfield Three would never be forgotten.

even as years passed without any new answers. Despite the years that have gone by, the mystery of the Springfield Three has not faded from the minds of those who remember it. Investigators still field occasional tips, each one offering a glimmer of hope. But the truth, if it's out there, remains elusive, hidden behind a wall of silence

that has endured for over 30 years. The case of the Springfield Three illustrates just how fragile safety can be, and serves as a stark example that even in our own homes, the unthinkable can occur. Cheryl, Susie, and Stacey left behind a legacy of unanswered questions, a mystery that continues to haunt Springfield. The years have passed, but the search for answers continues, driven by the families and friends who deserve to know what happened that summer night.

on Delmar Street all those years ago. The Springfield Three may be gone, but their story endures, a quiet testament to the secrets that sometimes slip through the cracks, waiting, perhaps, to one day be found. Phoebe Hansjuk was a striking young woman, spirited, artistic, and full of life. At just 24 years old, she was trying to find her place in the world, balancing her love for adventure with the reality of adult responsibilities.

She was known for her kindness and creativity, with a passion for exploring life's possibilities. Those close to her described her as a free spirit, someone who, despite her occasional struggles, approached life with resilience and a sense of wonder. In the vibrant city of Melbourne, Australia, Phoebe was living in a luxury apartment building with her boyfriend, Anthony Hample, a prominent figure in the local social scene.

Their relationship was intense, sometimes tumultuous, as many young romances can be. She had her ups and downs like anyone her age, and though she had challenges to face, she was taking steps towards a brighter future. But sometimes, life has a way of shifting in ways no one could expect. In December of 2010, Phoebe's world took an unexpected turn, an incident that would leave behind countless questions and suspicions.

casting gloom over everyone who knew her. In the weeks leading up to December, those close to Phoebe sensed a change in her. Though she was working to move forward, some days she seemed withdrawn and distant. She had spoken to friends and family about her relationship troubles and personal struggles, but also about her desire for new beginnings. She had her moments of darkness, yes, but no one believed her struggles were insurmountable. In fact, she had recently scheduled a session with a therapist

an attempt to gain perspective and take charge of her life. Her relationship with Antony, though full of passion, had taken an emotional toll on her. He was significantly older, and some of Phoebe's friends sensed an imbalance in their relationship. His influence on her was subtle, yet noticeable. Though he was established, respected, and well-connected, he had a personality that sometimes seemed to overpower Phoebe's, but she seemed determined to work through her difficulties.

trying to find a way to reconcile her dreams with the demands of her daily life. On December 1st, Phoebe spoke with her mother, Natalie. It was a normal conversation. They discussed plans to meet up soon. The following day, Phoebe moved through her morning quietly, captured briefly on surveillance footage in the apartment building lobby as she exited and returned. That evening, she was in the apartment alone, and what was set to transpire in the following hours

would unravel into one of the most disturbing and perplexing cases Australia had ever seen. When Antony returned to the apartment that night around 7pm, he immediately felt that something wasn't right. Phoebe's belongings were scattered across the kitchen counter: her wallet, keys, and phone. Objects she would never leave behind if she'd gone out. Glass shards littered the floor, and there were tiny drops of blood around the apartment. On the table lay a handwritten note,

its contents disorganized and puzzling, as though it was hastily written. The note's meaning was unclear, and to Antony, it felt ominous. He called Phoebe's family and a few friends, asking if anyone had heard from her. Though he expressed concern, he didn't notify authorities right away, suspecting she may have stepped out on her own. Despite the strange state of the apartment, he waited, uncertain whether to sound the alarm just yet. As hours ticked by with no sign of Phoebe,

Worry mounted. Then, a discovery made by a building employee would turn this story from an anxious search into a horrifying reality. The scene inside the refuse room in the basement of the Valencia Apartments was something out of a nightmare. The room, dimly lit and surrounded by cold concrete walls, housed the building's industrial garbage compactor, an ominous, hulking machine meant to crush refuse from the upper floors.

Stroned around the room were loose garbage bags, stale odors hanging in the air, remnants of discarded items that had made their way from each apartment chute. But that evening, there was something else amidst the garbage. Lying among the trash and debris was the body of Phoebe Hansjook. Her position was unnatural, legs bent at disturbing angles, and her bare feet were exposed in the middle of the scattered refuse. Her right foot had suffered a brutal degloving injury.

where the skin, muscle and tissue had been torn away from the bone, leaving only tendons holding the limb together. The flesh had been stripped back, exposing raw bone, an image so graphic that even first responders were visibly shaken. Blood spattered the area around her, evidence of the life that had slowly drained from her body as she lay there. Deep lacerations lined her arms and torso,

as though she had scraped against the metal chute walls in a desperate attempt to slow her fall. Bruises covered her limbs and torso as well, showing the force with which she had collided against the hard surfaces during the descent. Her left leg was twisted and fractured in multiple places. The bones shattered from the impact, while her hip and pelvic bones bore similar injuries. The damage was severe, yet, according to forensic experts,

Phoebe had survived the fall itself. She had landed, conscious, only to be left alone and bleeding out amidst the trash. Her face, normally full of life, was covered in streaks of blood, frozen in an expression that hinted at unimaginable pain. The room told a grim story of her final moments. Medical examiners estimated that Phoebe lay there, immobilized by her injuries, fully conscious for at least thirty minutes.

The slow bleed from her wounds, combined with the onset of shock, likely left her aware, yet utterly helpless. A terrifying reality as her life ebbed away. The horror of the scene was made worse by the knowledge of how she had arrived there. For Phoebe to have entered the garbage chute from her apartment, she would have had to maneuver herself into an opening barely wide enough to fit a human body, just 22 centimeters across. The chute itself was lined with sharp, unyielding metal.

a narrow tunnel plunging 12 floors straight down to the basement, ending at the unforgiving concrete floor of the refuse room. It was a descent that seemed nearly impossible to survive, but for Phoebe to fit through the chute, she would have needed to press her arms tightly against her sides and push her feet forward, contorting herself into a position that was far from natural, especially given her impaired state. Toxicology reports would go to show

that at some point in the night, Phoebe had had at least two alcoholic drinks, as well as sleeping pills that were found in her system. Tests conducted later would reveal just how difficult it would be for anyone to climb into the chute, let alone manage it feet first. The layout and mechanics of the chute were clear, this was no accident or casual entry. The small drops of blood found in the apartment, the shattered glass on the floor, and the bizarre note all hinted at a scene that had been anything but ordinary.

and as investigators took in the refuse room's grim tableau, they were left with a singular, terrifying question: How had Phoebe Hansduke ended up here, alone, amidst the debris of the building? With the horrific scene now in focus, investigators turned their attention to Phoebe's movements leading up to her death and the behavior of those closest to her. Of particular interest was her boyfriend, Anthony Hample, and his actions that evening. While he expressed concern to Phoebe's friends and family,

He had refrained from calling the police immediately, despite the signs of blood and broken glass found around the apartment. Anthony was well-connected, an established figure in Melbourne's events industry, and known for his calm demeanor. However, his calmness struck some as odd under the circumstances. Some friends of Phoebe's family couldn't help but question his level of detachment and his lack of urgency, wondering if there was more to his actions than met the eye.

but without concrete evidence to suggest his involvement, the police had little reason to pursue him further. The circumstances of Phoebe's death continue to fuel theories and debate. The chute's narrow dimensions, her level of intoxication, and the challenges involved in entering the chute feet first all cast doubt on the theory that her death was accidental. Experts considered the possibility that Phoebe may have been incapacitated before entering the chute,

perhaps even being placed there by someone else. The broken glass, blood, and odd note in the apartment suggested some kind of distress or conflict before her final moments, though the exact nature of these clues remains ambiguous. One theory posits that Phoebe may have been drugged or rendered semi-conscious, allowing someone to place her in the chute while she was unable to resist. But without definitive evidence of foul play,

This theory, like so many others, remains only speculative. As investigators reviewed the evidence, three primary theories emerged: that Phoebe's death was an accident, a deliberate act of self-harm, or the result of foul play. Each explanation had its own complexities and inconsistencies, making it difficult for anyone to arrive at a definitive conclusion. The Accident Theory Some experts initially suggested that Phoebe's death could have been a tragic accident,

Given her intoxication level and the presence of prescription sleeping pills in her system, it was proposed that Phoebe might have stumbled towards the garbage chute in a confused or impaired state. However, this theory raised more questions than it answered. The sheer difficulty of fitting through the chute made this explanation seem improbable at best. The opening, positioned more than a meter off the ground, required deliberate effort to reach, even for someone fully aware and physically capable.

Entering it would have been a challenge, let alone for someone intoxicated and under the influence of sedatives. Additionally, Phoebe's physical injuries didn't align with the simple accident. The lacerations on her arms and torso suggested she had scraped against the chute's interior walls during her descent. This indicated some level of movement or resistance, which conflicted with the idea of her being unconscious or slipping in accidentally.

This episode is brought to you by Peacock and the new original docuseries, Making Manson. In 1969, Charles Manson and his followers committed seven brutal murders in Los Angeles that would make him infamous. Now, with access to over 100 hours of phone recordings between an incarcerated Manson and his closest confidant, a new story will unfold with shocking revelations from the man himself. Making Manson is streaming now only on Peacock.

The unaliving theory. The possibility of suicide was also considered, primarily due to Phoebe's known struggles with mental health and some previous incidents of self-harm. Those supporting this theory argued that her decision to enter the shoot could have been a desperate act driven by emotional turmoil. But this theory also had significant flaws. Phoebe's friends and family strongly rejected the idea that she was suicidal at the time.

She had been making plans for the future, including scheduling therapy sessions and meeting with her mother. To them, Phoebe's actions in the days leading up to her death didn't match the profile of someone intent on ending their life. Even if Phoebe had been in a vulnerable state, the method of her death seemed highly unusual. Climbing into a garbage chute as a means of self-harm was both uncommon and physically challenging, raising doubts about whether this was a plausible explanation to begin with.

the foul play theory. This third theory has remained the most controversial. Phoebe's injuries, the unusual state of the apartment, and the difficulties involved in entering the chute all pointed to the possibility that someone else may have been involved. Supporters of this theory highlighted several troubling details. The blood in the apartment,

Small drops of blood were found near the kitchen counter and in other areas of the apartment, suggesting that Phoebe may have been injured or incapacitated before her fall. The broken glass, the shards of glass indicated some kind of disturbance. Was this from a struggle? One that resulted in Phoebe possibly being injured? The handwritten note, the strange and disjointed note left behind, raised suspicions. Some saw it as a sign of emotional distress,

while others questioned whether it was written under duress or even by Phoebe herself. If foul play was involved, the primary question remained: who would have been capable of such an act? Phoebe's boyfriend was the last person known to have been in contact with her. While no direct evidence linked him to her death, his actions and demeanor in the aftermath continued to fuel speculation. The garbage chute itself became a central focus of the investigation, as stated before measuring just 22 centimeters wide.

The chute was designed for disposing of small bags of trash, not for human entry. To fit through it, Phoebe would have had to lift herself into the opening, position her body precisely, and push herself downward feet first. Forensic tests conducted with individuals of similar height and build revealed just how difficult this task would have been. Even in a sober, fully alert state, climbing into the chute required effort and coordination.

In Phoebe's condition, impaired by alcohol and sleeping pills, the likelihood of her entering the chute unaided seemed incredibly low. Another question arose about the injuries sustained during her descent. The cuts and bruises along her body suggested that she had made contact with the chute's walls on the way down. Experts debated whether those injuries could indicate resistance, as though Phoebe had been conscious and trying to stop her fall.

This would further complicate the theory that she had entered the shoot voluntarily. Her boyfriend Antony's behavior and the nature of his relationship with Phoebe were scrutinized closely. By all accounts, their relationship had been tumultuous, marked by passionate highs and periods of strain. Friends of Phoebe recalled instances where she felt controlled or overshadowed by Antony's dominant personality. While there was no record of physical abuse,

Some describe their dynamic as emotionally unbalanced. On the night of Phoebe's death, Antony's delayed reaction to the strange state of the apartment raised questions. Despite finding blood, broken glass, and Phoebe's belongings left behind, he didn't call the police or report her missing right away. Instead, he contacted Phoebe's mother and a few friends, seemingly downplaying the situation.

Critics of Antony's actions argue that his response lacked urgency, particularly given the unsettling signs in the apartment. Supporters, however, maintain that he may have been in shock or simply unsure of how to proceed. Without substantial evidence linking him to Phoebe's death, Antony was never charged, though his presence in the case has left an indelible mark on the investigation. The case of Phoebe Hansjuk remains riddled with unanswered questions.

Each piece of evidence seems to tell a different story, but none provide a clear resolution. Why was Phoebe's phone left behind for someone who lived so much of her life connected to her phone? Its presence in the apartment suggests she had no intention of leaving for long. What caused the broken glass? Was it an altercation, an accident, or something else entirely? Was Phoebe truly alone in her final moments?

The lack of witnesses, plus forensic evidence pointing to foul play, leaves a noticeable void in the narrative. Phoebe Hansduck's death is a story of mystery, tragedy, and unanswered questions. At just 24 years old, her life was cut short in a manner so disturbing that it has left investigators, forensic experts, and her family grasping for clarity. The evidence offers glimpses into her final hours but never quite reveals the full picture.

Was it an accident, a desperate act, or something different altogether? The truth of what happened that night in the Balencia apartments may never be fully uncovered, but one thing remains certain: Phoebe Hansduk's case remains a deeply perplexing mystery, with key questions about her final moments still left far too open. A special thanks to all of you who have made it to the end of this episode. Your support means everything to us, and we are truly grateful to have you here.

If you'd like to take your support one step further, consider joining our community on Patreon at patreon.com slash malevolent mischief. Your contributions not only allow us to continue bringing more content your way, but as a member, you'll also get early access to each and every episode we make before anyone else. Thank you for tuning in, and as always, I hope to catch you on the next one.

Hey, I'm Ryan Reynolds. At Mint Mobile, we like to do the opposite of what Big Wireless does. They charge you a lot, we charge you a little. So naturally, when they announced they'd be raising their prices due to inflation, we decided to deflate our prices due to not hating you.

That's right. We're cutting the price of Mint Unlimited from $30 a month to just $15 a month. Give it a try at mintmobile.com slash switch. $45 upfront payment equivalent to $15 per month. New customers on first three-month plan only. Taxes and fees extra. Speeds lower above 40 gigabytes. See details.