Deep Dive
Shownotes Transcript
Welcome back to the podcast, bingers. You're tuning into the second part of our two-episode Lost and Found miniseries, where we are digging into a pair of missing persons cases with long-delayed resolutions, where the circumstances of how the victims were found when they finally turned up were quite unique. And this week, we explore a disappearance from the late 70s from California's East Bay area. But
But before we get into it, I did want to let you know that Oh No Media, which is our true crime network that all of our shows live under, has just launched another true crime podcast. It's called Rise in Crime. It's actually hosted by my mom, and it's a show that keeps you up to date on all things true crime news.
She's going to be posting two episodes a week that keeps you updated on everything happening in true crime today, whether that's updates on cases that we've covered at Oh No Media or just updates on cases that are in the news and really big right now. So go check it out. The first episodes actually drop next week, and I think you're going to love it. Okay, but back to Binged. Again, we are in California's East Bay area in the late 70s.
A woman named Lou Ellen Burleigh had only been on the earth for 21 years.
and had limited experience in the job market. But in spite of this, she had the wisdom enough or intuition enough to recognize that this particular job interview was weird. It was September 1977. Lou Ellen had been working as a receptionist at the Heald Business College in Walnut Creek, California, where she lived. She had originally been a student at Heald, and once she graduated, the school hired her.
But working as a receptionist at Hilde was a transitional job for Llewellyn and the pay left something to be desired.
One afternoon, the phone rang in the front office at Heald College. The caller was a man who said his name was John Brown, and he said he worked as a representative for the Helena Rubinstein Cosmetics Company. The company was opening a new outlet in the neighboring city of Pleasant Hill, he said, and they were seeking to hire a secretary.
They were offering a monthly salary of $1,200 with an attractive benefits package, travel to Hawaii, and short hours. Full-time pay with benefits and travel on a part-time schedule. And more than that, experience wasn't necessary, he said. So as long as the employee was able to learn, the company would train.
Karen Brock, who first took the call, was interested in the position, but Llewellyn had seniority, and so she was entitled to first dibs. Karen explained that to the man, and he then asked if either of them were married. She said no, and during the call, the man happened to mention that he was calling from a car phone, from his red Corvette.
It kind of sounded like he had something other than a professional interest here. But for Llewellyn, everything about this position was definitely better than her current gig. It paid $400 more than her current job for less work, fewer hours, and with benefits.
and travel to Hawaii. I mean, it seemed like the ideal job and she wanted to throw her hat into the ring as a candidate. Lola Bermudez, the placement director at the college, talked to Llewellyn about it and told her that the money being offered was exponentially higher than what any other secretarial position was offering. I know, Llewellyn agreed, it's great, but that's not how Lola meant it.
I'm leery of the situation, Lola clarified. I just think you shouldn't go. But Llewellyn nonetheless made arrangements to meet with John Brown for a job interview, which was scheduled to take place the following Saturday in the parking lot of a shopping center that was still under construction. That was where the cosmetics company would be opening its new location. The circumstances of the job interview seemed a bit odd from the outset.
And the interview itself was even stranger. In fact, that Saturday night after the interview, Lou Ellen was hanging out with her roommate, Kurt, and his friend, Mike, smoking pot and drinking beer. And she began telling them about it, about this strange job interview she'd had that afternoon with the man named John Brown. She was totally creeped out by the guy, she told her friends, and creeped out by the whole experience.
First of all, the interview didn't even take place inside an office, but rather inside the guy's run-down orange van. When she first saw the guy, nothing about him squared with the corporate professional she expected to meet. He wasn't wearing business clothes. In fact, instead, he was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans and had a sleazy gold chain hanging from his neck.
He looked like he could have been in his 40s or 50s. It was kind of hard to tell. His hair was graying and his teeth were all messed up. His front teeth were discolored like they were decaying and his breath was almost unbearably bad. In fact, he must have been self-conscious about it because he kept covering his mouth with his hand while they talked. And then he insisted on doing the interview in the backseat of his van, explaining that his office was still under construction and he didn't even have the key on him.
Llewellyn at this point in the interview became frightened, realizing how vulnerable she was all alone with this creepy stranger in the backseat of his van.
She asked him to keep the door open, claiming it was stuffy inside, trying to conceal to whatever degree she could how deeply uncomfortable she was. But also there was construction workers in the vicinity working in the plaza, workers who had seen her get into the van and were close enough that if there was any kind of struggle, they'd probably take notice and intervene. So that did feel reassuring to her.
But then the guy wanted to take her somewhere. There's something else I want to show you, he said. It's not far and I'll just take you there. Llewellyn protested, but the man tried to calm her as he started up the van and began driving away haphazardly and with such urgency that he suddenly rammed into a pole and had to stop the van.
They both got out and saw a large dent in the back of the vehicle, but the guy didn't seem too concerned. Oh well, he said as he motioned for Llewellyn to get back into the van with him. Shouldn't we call somebody, she asked? Shouldn't we do something? No, no, no, the man said. It's not my van anyway. Now at this point, Llewellyn was pretty weirded out and told the guy she had lunch plans with a friend.
Are you still interested in the position? He asked. She was, she told him. So he asked her to return for a follow-up interview in the same location the following day at 9 a.m. on Sunday morning. It's just so weird he wants to interview me on a Sunday morning, Llewellyn told her friends. I'll go with you if you want, offered her roommate Kurt. Would you, asked Llewellyn. Sure, Kurt said.
But the beer and the weed put Kurt out of commission for longer than he expected. And early the next morning, as Llewellyn nudged him awake, he scoffed. Do I really have to get up? Well, no, it'll be okay, Llewellyn said. Now, Kurt invited her to take his knife along with her just in case. So she took him up on the offer and put the knife into her purse. I'll be back by noon, she said. And if I'm not, come looking for me.
Llewellyn then left, again headed to the shopping plaza under construction in Pleasant Hill for her second interview with the man calling himself John Brown, the man with the dumpy van and the messed up teeth. But unlike the first interview, Llewellyn Burley would never be seen again.
When she didn't come back home, Kurt drove to the plaza and found Llewellyn's Chevy Impala parked in the lot with the doors unlocked and Llewellyn nowhere in sight.
He left a note on the car and returned to it multiple times throughout the day. And then he eventually went to the police and filed a missing persons report. Police contacted the Helena Rubinstein Cosmetics Company and quickly learned there were no plans to open a store in Pleasant Hill. And there was no company recruiter or representative named John Brown. The call had been bogus.
Llewellyn had essentially been lured out to this location to be abducted. Now, not long after Llewellyn's disappearance, a sex worker named Grace McConnell, this is a pseudonym, was arrested for engaging in prostitution. And in an effort to get her case dismissed, Grace told detectives she had information about a dangerous date she'd recently had.
with a man she thought might be connected to Lou Ellen Burley's disappearance. Grace explained that she had placed an ad in the Berkeley Barb in Alternative Weekly, describing herself as a vicious redhead offering, quote, the greatest massage in the world. A body massage where the massage the ad promised was done with her body.
Now about this massage, the ad read, quote, it's the only one that doesn't make you get carpal tunnel syndrome and not get every vertebrae in your spine out of alignment to do it. So it was pretty clear, you know, what kind of services Grace was offering here, right? And a man named Roger called her up and expressed an interest in receiving this special kind of massage from Grace.
So they made plans to meet outside a Black Angus steakhouse. And once they met outside the restaurant, the man named Roger took her to his vehicle, a run-down orange van, so they could negotiate a price for this massage, which I'm sure you've already guessed was actually sexual intercourse.
They agreed on a price of $200, but the man said he wanted to first drive her out into the forest aways, away from civilization so they wouldn't be disturbed. But Grace was getting bad vibes. I don't think so, she said. I'll double it, he told her, $400. He then pulled out his ID and showed it to her. See, that's my name in everything. I'm not a bad guy.
So reassured by this, Grace hopped into the van and the man began driving way, way out. It felt like they drove for an hour at least. And they ended up near a small airport that was used for skydiving. It was after dark at this point. There was no one around. The man parked across from the airport and told Grace to follow him.
He began walking her across a dark field and that's when her bad vibes resurfaced. She was feeling nervous, but she tried to hide it. Why don't we go back to the van where it's warmer? She asked. So they did. They returned to the van and proceeded to have sex on a sleeping bag in the back.
And when they were finished, the guy started the van back up and drove away. Now, after driving just a short distance, he then pulled over and told Grace he wanted to have sex again.
But Grace was at this point ready to be done with this date. The guy gave her the creeps and she felt she'd already given him his $400 worth. You know, she said, we already had sex and I'd rather just not go again right now. Yeah, well, I want to, he told her. And he was very insistent to the point where she felt she had no choice. So she submitted to sex with him again.
And then again, and again, and in between, he just drove around, almost aimlessly, around and around, all night long, with Grace practically captive in this creep's passenger seat as he drove across deserted roads and through desolate areas.
It was like he was trying to decide what he wanted to do with her. Grace was afraid at this point. He was seemingly driving in circles, passing through the same toll bridge four separate times. And each time, Grace leaned across and asked the toll attendant what time it was to make sure her face was seen and remembered. Eventually, the guy began driving across the Benicia Bridge over the San Pablo Bay.
The clock on the bridge indicated at the time that it was now 3.30 in the morning. Grace had been in this guy's van with him for more than four hours. It's really late, Grace tried again. I think I'd like to get back now.
So he turned the van around in the middle of the bridge and began driving back toward Walnut Creek. But then, as he was seemingly headed back to where they met, he suddenly turned and drove up a dark hill, stopping the van in an empty field.
He pointed toward a house up the hill and told Grace that his sisters live there and he wanted to go check if their lights were on. They always leave their lights on, he said. Well, I'll stay here, Grace told him. No, the man insisted. You'll come with me. But Grace refused and let him know she was staying put right where she was. That's when the man then got out of the van, walked around to the passenger door, opened it, went into the glove box and pulled out a knife.
He put the knife to her throat and demanded that she get out of the van. Grace was certain at this point that this man was going to kill her. Her survival instincts kicked in and she decided to play it totally cool and do everything the man wanted, complete submission. "There's no need for you to pull a knife," she told him. "I'll do whatever you want. You can have sex with me again. You can have my purse." The man didn't reply. Instead, he remained absolutely silent as he marched Grace up the hill.
I thought you were a nice guy, she said. I'm an effing a-hole, he told her. But, you know, using the actual R-rated words that I'm not going to say here. He, in fact, said this several times. I'm an effing a-hole. I won't support you having such a negative self-image, Grace told him, trying to just remain calm and unfazed. Aren't you scared, he asked. Aren't you scared?
She told him she wasn't, even though she was very scared. I know you're a nice guy and you won't hurt me, she said to him. And it worked. He took the knife away and led her back to his van, driving back down the hill and onto the main road. Have you done this before? Grace asked him. I've done this with girls three times before, he answered. I'm the one who took that girl from Walnut Creek, the one that's been in the papers.
I guess he felt like because Grace was a sex worker, she was a nobody and he could tell her anything without consequence, but he underestimated her. After he dropped her back off at the Black Angus restaurant, Grace made sure to memorize the license plate number off of his van before leaving. Okay, most beauty brands don't understand fine color treated hair, but...
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Like the man suspected of abducting Llewellyn Burley, this guy drove a rundown orange van and had bad teeth and graying hair. Detectives ran the plate and learned the van was registered to a man named Roger Reese Kibbe. And Kibbe had a rap sheet dating back to his late teens for burglary, many, many burglaries.
And while there were no violent crimes or sex crimes on his record, there seemed to have been a sexual element to some of the burglaries. When he was a teen back in San Diego County, he was caught stealing women's clothing off a clothesline. Back at his house, he had a box of women's garments he had collected and cut apart with scissors.
According to those old reports, he was unable to explain why he did any of this. So at this point in our story, Kibbe was now a strong suspect in Llewellyn Burleigh's disappearance.
The police showed a picture of the van to Grace, who had had that scary night with this man before Llewellyn was abducted. And she positively identified it as the one that she'd been taking in as well. Detectives showed up to Kibbe's house where the van was parked to inspect it. On the right rear panel of the van, they observed a fresh dent.
with white paint transfer. Now this was consistent with what Lou Ellen had told her friends, Mike and Kurt, the night before she vanished about the same man hitting a pole in the parking lot earlier that day.
Now, later in the afternoon, a detective drove by Kibbe's house with a witness from the shopping plaza who'd seen the van that Saturday. And while they were driving by, Roger Kibbe noticed them. He darted out of his house and got into the van, speeding away. That's when Mrs. Kibbe suddenly emerged from the house and began screaming at the detective, demanding to know why the police were harassing them.
Roger Kibbe later showed up at the Pittsburgh Police Department. Kibbe lived in the city of Pittsburgh, which is the same county as Walnut Creek and Pleasant Hill. Kibbe showed up four separate times that night, wanting to get to the bottom of why police were at his house, checking out his van and, quote, harassing him and his wife.
They eventually interviewed him while his wife waited at the station. He claimed he knew nothing about either Llewellyn Burley or Grace, even though Grace's description matched him in his van and she recorded his license plate, which led to him. Kibbe gave the police permission to search his van, which they did, and they didn't find anything. And Grace declined to press charges for the entire ordeal that he subjected her to.
And since no one was able to positively identify him or his van and Lou Ellen was just a missing person, police had no evidence of foul play. They couldn't go any further with Kibbe. So Lou Ellen's disappearance soon became a cold case. And her mother, who had also lost her husband, Lou Ellen's father, to heart disease just a year earlier,
now had to cope with the loss of not just her partner, but also her child. And then, nine years later, there was another young woman who went missing, Laura Renee Hedick. Laura didn't get the same kind of coverage when she disappeared that Llewellyn got.
For a clue as to why, no one need look no further than the newspaper articles about her disappearance, which did a delicate dance around what Laura did for a living. One read, her boyfriend said he last saw her on South 9th Street early the next morning with a man who appeared to be about 50 years old driving a white Ford Maverick.
If you can read between the lines here, Laura was a sex worker. Her boyfriend was her pimp. And the man in the white Ford Maverick was a client, a John. After this sighting, Laura disappeared. It was April of 1986. Just a few months later, on July 3rd, another sex worker, 29-year-old Barbara Ann Scott, was found dead under a tree on a golf course in Antioch.
She had been strangled to death with her own sweater and her bra had been tossed into the tree above her. A couple of weeks later, Stephanie Marchia Brown, a 19-year-old bank teller, was laying in bed late at night when the phone suddenly rang. She picked up the phone, expecting the obscene caller that had been tormenting her and her roommate, Patty, for the past several weeks. But it wasn't. It was Patty, her roommate, on the other end.
She and her boyfriend, Jim, had car trouble and were stranded at a liquor store. And Jim, who worked as a late night radio DJ, would be late to work if they didn't get transportation soon. Can you come out and give us a lift back to Jim's place? Patty asked. Of course, Stephanie told her.
But Stephanie didn't know the area very well. It was downtown Sacramento and she ventured out there only rarely. So Patty gave her detailed directions and Stephanie put on some clothes and got there in about 20 minutes. When she arrived, they apologized for calling her at such a late hour. But Stephanie told them it was no bother at all. They both hopped into Stephanie's passenger seat. Patty sat on Jim's lap and Stephanie drove them back to his place. Now, how do I get home? She asked them.
They wrote out directions for her and she then left. As she drove back toward her house on I-5, she missed the fork and instead of driving north toward her home, she continued south down a desolate stretch of the highway where the next town was 40 miles away.
Now, she never returned home. When Stephanie's mom learned from Patty that Stephanie never returned home, they agreed that Patty should drive up and down the I-5 route she'd have taken to see if her car had broken down. Her car would later be found 20 miles away from the turn she missed, abandoned on the side of the highway.
Shortly after sunrise, a fisherman checking his crawdad traps discovered Stephanie's body floating face down in a flooded irrigation ditch. She was completely nude except for her pink bra. She had been strangled to death and sexually assaulted. And whoever killed her, the investigators determined, had cut her ponytail. And in the canal, they found a distinctive pair of scissors they suspected had been used in the commission of the crime.
Because the car was neither out of gas nor broken down, it was assumed that Stephanie realized she was lost and probably stopped to try and ask someone for directions. And that someone took her and killed her. A month later, a 26-year-old woman named Charmaine Sabra and her mother were returning to dinner when their car broke down on a desolate stretch of I-5. A short time later, a middle-aged man in a dark-colored sports car stopped to offer help.
He told them he'd be happy to give one of them a ride, but it could only be one as his car was a two-seater. Charmaine got in and would never be seen again. Three months later, her decomposing body was found by a deer hunter in rural Amador County. The side seam from her blouse had been cut and used to strangle her with the help of a piece of nylon cord. Her pantyhose had been cut and tied around her wrists.
Her slip and the shoulder straps of her bra were also cut, but for no apparent functional purpose. This was a very unique element, the way her clothing was cut. There were no apparent practical or functional reason for the killer to do this. It was purely, it seemed, for his own gratification. So, just an all-around weirdo. A homicidal weirdo who carried a pair of scissors around with him to cut his victim's clothing.
Charmaine's mother described the man as about 50 years of age, 5 foot 9 inches tall, between 150 and 180 pounds, with gray hair, a large nose, and pale skin, wearing a shabby white t-shirt and black pants. She sat down with a police sketch artist, and a composite drawing based on this description was made and circulated to the media.
At the time, there were volunteer pilots in the sky participating in a practice drill, and they were asked to keep an eye out for any sign of Charmaine within the three-mile radius of where her mother last saw her, but nothing turned up. Authorities issued a warning advising female motorists traveling alone along I-5 to lock their doors if their cars broke down and not accept offers of help from lone men.
In the fall of 1986, the body of Laura Rena Hedick was finally recovered from a remote area in southern Sacramento County. She had been hogtied with her own tank top. Her halter top and socks had been cut with scissors for no apparent functional reason, much like those of Charmaine Sabra and other victims in what was now being recognized as the work of one man who was being dubbed the I-5 killer.
Police decoys began posing as sex workers as well as motorists in distress in an attempt to capture this serial killer. One such John they contacted was none other than Roger Reese Kibbe, who was pulled over on November 22, 1986 after trying to solicit from a sex worker. This is after he'd attacked Grace and become a suspect in Llewellyn's disappearance.
Police immediately noted that Kibbe resembled the composite sketch of the I-5 killer and was driving a dark blue sports car, just like the description Charmaine's mother had given.
When detectives dropped by Kibbe's home on December 8th, 1986, no one came to the door. So they left their business card and then were later called by Roger Kibbe's wife and then his brother Steve, who was a homicide detective in Nevada. Detectives on the I-5 task force, by the way, had speculated that the I-5 killer might be familiar with investigative techniques because he was very careful to cover his tracks.
So Roger's brother, Detective Steve Kibbe, told I-5 killer investigators that his brother managed a storage facility called Auburn Storage in Sacramento. And that was the best place to reach him. So police went to the storage facility and talked to Roger, who acknowledged that, yeah, he looked like the composite. And yeah, his car did fit the description. And yeah, he had contacted sex workers in multiple cities, but he never actually had sex with any of them or picked them up.
He was afraid they might be police officers, he said. Kibbe, they learned, had previously managed a furniture manufacturing company in nearby cities, and he had familiarity with nearly all the areas where the victims were found. He'd also previously owned a white Maverick, much like the car Laura Hedick was last seen getting into. And a quick search of his sports car turned up a pellet pistol, which looked just like a real gun.
When they had Kibbe come down to the station for another interview, his wife came along with him. And she made the remark, quote, this is just like what happened to him 10 years ago when he was accused of being involved with a missing female.
Suddenly, Roger Kibbe was their number one suspect. But the victims continued to pile up as the investigation drew on. Catherine Kelly Quinonez, a 25-year-old sex worker, was found strangled on December 21st, 1986, out near Lake Berryessa in Napa County. Some cord connected to wooden dowels had been fashioned into a garret, which was left tied tightly around her neck.
Like Stephanie Brown, Catherine's hair had also been cut. Then in June of 1987, a 25-year-old divorced mom named Karen Louise Finch left her boyfriend's house to drive home. She never made it. Seven days later, her body was found in a ditch in Slough House.
She had been raped, stabbed, and her throat was slashed, which was different from the other victims who were strangled. But investigators believe Karen may have vigorously fought her killer, which caused him to stab instead of strangle.
And then on September 19th, a 17-year-old runaway from Seattle who had been exchanging sex for money in Sacramento turned up dead in South Lake Tahoe. She'd been missing for about a month. Her name was Darcy Renee Frankenpol.
and she had been strangled with parachute cord. Just one day before that body was found, a sex worker named Henrietta, this is a pseudonym, told police she'd been approached in downtown Sacramento by a middle-aged man who'd offered her money in exchange for sex. She got into his car and he drove a little ways before stopping in the parking lot of a deserted golf course. He then became violent, smashing Henrietta's head into the dashboard and trying to handcuff her.
She somehow managed to free herself and a cop who was cruising nearby observed what was happening and stopped to investigate. The client who turned violent was Roger Kibbe.
Kibbe was then placed under arrest, but just before he was, he was seen tossing a plastic bag, which police recovered, and inside they found a pair of scissors, a vibrator, hairband like those used to tie long hair into a ponytail, and a piece of white cord with its ends tied around a pair of wooden dowels to make a garret. Just like what Katherine Kelley had around her neck when her body was found,
It was also learned that Kibbe was an avid skydiver, having completed over 4,000 skydives. 4,000! Can you imagine? It's actually been found that psychopaths are more likely than the average person to seek out adrenaline rushes in the form of activities like bungee jumping and skydiving. Now, I'm not saying if you love skydiving, you're a psychopath, but psychopaths
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But what was more significant about Kibbe being a skydiving junkie was that the last I-5 victim, Darcy, was found strangled with a piece of nylon parachute cord.
Really, the police knew they had their man at this point, but they still needed concrete evidence and they didn't have enough yet to file murder charges. So Kibbe was released on bond and placed under surveillance. Meanwhile, search warrants were executed on his two vehicles and his house. And cordage was found in all three locations that was similar to cordage found on the victims. Under a microscope, red paint and black particles were found on the cordage.
Cord connected to a rape Kibbe had been linked to were examined and found to have the same red paint and black particles. A scanning electron microscope was then used to analyze the paint and it was found the same elements were contained in the paint on all three pieces of rope. The rope found on his car, in his storage shed, and near Darcy's body. Also, two carpet fibers were found on Darcy's dress.
They were nylon and triangular in shape and manufactured by the DuPont company. When they were compared to the carpet in Kibbe's car, they were found to be identical. And they also had the same type of fungal spores. Also, hair found on one of the victims was similar to Kibbe's thigh hair. Disgusting. And when the pantyhose used to bind Charmaine's wrists were turned right side out...
Several small fibers were found that matched fibers on the seat of Kibbe's car. And finally, the pieces of rope in Kibbe's car and storage shed were analyzed. They appeared to be identical to the rope found near Darcy's body. So I'm only saying this because at this point there was overwhelming forensic evidence to almost guarantee a conviction, at least in the death of Darcy.
Kibbe was arrested and charged with her murder. And as he sat alone in the back of the police cruiser with his wife next to him, he confessed to her that he had killed several women. They both broke down and cried. And when she asked him why he did it, he told her he didn't know. In jail, as he was awaiting trial, he was more cavalier about it when he was talking to a guard one night. So I killed a few women, he said to the guard. What's the big deal?
Despite him talking freely about it in private, Kibbe openly denied killing anyone and pleaded not guilty. But the evidence against him was overwhelming, and the jury found him guilty of first-degree murder in the killing of Darcy Frankenpol. He received a sentence of 25 years to life and was sent to serve his sentence at San Quentin years past.
And then in the early 2000s, the other six I-5 Strangler cases were re-examined. In one of the cases, the murder of Barbara Scott, there was enough DNA preserved to develop a DNA profile. And that DNA profile came back as a match to Roger Kibbe. So they sat down with Kibbe because, you know, at this point he'd been in prison for over 10 years. And that's often a fertile period for reaching back out to incarcerated offenders who are suspected of other crimes.
The boredom and monotony of rotting away in prison can make it easier to incentivize them to talk. And sure enough, Kibbe told authorities in 2003 that he may be willing to talk if they offer him a plea deal, assuring him they wouldn't pursue the death penalty. He then proceeded to confess to seven murders, including the one he'd already been convicted of.
So in addition to Darcy Frankenpole, he confessed to killing Barbara Scott, Lauren Renee Hedick, Stephanie Brown, Charmaine Sabra, Catherine Kelly Quinones, and Lou Ellen Burley.
He admitted to placing the phone call in 1977 to Heald College from a public pay phone, telling the placement manager he was seeking an office manager for a cosmetics company. He said he met with Llewellyn on the first day, not entirely sure what he planned to do with her. He thought he might kidnap and rape her, but he said he didn't have anything planned out. He claimed he never killed anyone before her, though authorities to this date don't trust this information.
On Sunday, he said when Llewellyn arrived for the second interview, she told him that her boyfriend was with her, but he claimed he knew this was a lie because he had seen her drive up and he saw that she was alone.
During the interview, he overpowered her and tried to tie her up with parachute cord. She struggled with him until she became weak and he was able to then bind her hands and gag her. He said he then drove her out to Lake Berryessa where he raped her, walked her into a rugged terrain and strangled her to death, leaving her body in a creek bed. Kibbe accompanied authorities out to the area where he said he had left Llewellyn Burley's body.
but they couldn't find anything. And with so many years having passed, they abandoned their efforts. In 2008, Roger Kibbe was formally charged with the murders of Burleigh, Scott, Hedick, Brown, Sabra, and Quinones. He was never charged with Karen Louise Finch's murder because no evidence tying him to the crime was ever found and he never admitted to it. He
He accepted a plea deal, but it was one of those plea deals where prosecutors agreed to take the death penalty off the table only if Kibbe provided full disclosure, confessing to every crime he committed with total honesty. Kibbe confessed to the seven murders he was ultimately charged with, denied killing Karen Finch, even though investigators remain pretty confident he was responsible.
And he also denied cutting the clothing of the victims, which authorities and forensic psychologists found strange. He even admitted to putting victim's hair into a ponytail and then cutting it for reasons he couldn't explain. But he wouldn't admit to cutting the clothing. It was as though this was the one thing he was ashamed of.
But when forensic psychiatrist Park Dietz suggested to Kibbe that maybe he had fantasies of cutting up women, but doing so would be crossing a line in his mind, something he thought was too sick even for him, and that cutting the clothing was a sort of substitute, Kibbe more or less acknowledged that Dietz was right on the money.
So Kibbe gave complete accounts of each crime, pled guilty, and received six life sentences. And although it was now known what happened to Llewellyn Burleigh and where she was left, it seemed that her remains would never be found. Michael Bartlett was a Napa County Sheriff's deputy who found himself drawn into Llewellyn's disappearance. For several years, his patrol area had been Lake Berryessa, so it felt personal for him.
In 2011, he met with the investigator with the Napa County District Attorney's Office and began reviewing the case materials. Deputy Bartlett was determined to find Lou Ellen's body. He knew she was out there. He didn't think Kibbe had been lying about where he'd left her. He just had to pinpoint the exact location.
So that's when he dug into the case file and local archives, old maps and photographs, trying to sync up the details that Kibbe provided with how the area looked at the time versus currently. He then went out to Lake Berryessa, and this was in March of 2011. And as he was taking a walk along a small creek off the trail that Kibbe said he'd led Llewellyn down before killing her, something in the water hit Deputy Bartlett's eye.
It was a small patch of white, just sort of glistening beneath the surface of the water. It was like a fossil sticking out of the gravel at the bottom of the creek. He reached into the shallow creek and pulled it out. It looked to him like a bone fragment.
Deputy Bartlett sent the piece to a forensic anthropologist at California State University and the anthropologist confirmed it was human bone, specifically a fragment of a female pelvic bone. The bone fragment was then sent along to a DNA laboratory and a profile was developed and that profile was consistent with the DNA profile of Lou Ellen Burley. This proved beyond doubt that
that Lou Ellen was dead and it gave her family that final piece of closure. Further searches were done at the site where the bone fragment was found but nothing ever turned up. A lot of time had passed and this was a rural area that had been subjected to the elements and wildlife activity for over 30 years. So no additional search efforts had ever been carried out.
Authorities and Llewellyn's loved ones were satisfied with the outcome, as satisfied at least as they could be given the grim finality of these circumstances. But that's what it provided them, finality, closure. And the epilogue to this story contains a generous helping of what you might call poetic justice. On the morning of February 28th, 2021,
81-year-old I-5 strangler Roger Kibbe was found dead on the floor of his prison cell. Standing over him was his cellmate, 40-year-old Jason Boudreau, a self-avowed Satanist with a 666 tattoo above his right eyebrow, who himself was serving a life sentence for strangling a woman to death. Do they typically pair stranglers together in San Quentin?
If you work at San Quentin and have that information, let me know. So Jason Bedreau, fellow strangler, admitted to having strangled the I-5 strangler to death in a mission, as he put it, to avenge Kibbe's victims. Now, of course, murder is murder, and Bedreau was charged, convicted, and sentenced to an additional life sentence for having killed Roger Kibbe. I still kind of wonder, though, what kind of cred that gives him in the pen.
So regardless of where you stand on the death penalty and eye for an eye and street justice, it's hard to deny the irony of how Kibbe's own life ended and the near impossibility of having found just a single small bone fragment from Llewellyn Burley almost hidden at the bottom of a creek deep in the wild surrounding Lake Berryessa, thus resolving a 36-year-old missing persons case.
Now that's it for this week's episode. Next week, we start over with a new two-episode miniseries introducing a brand new theme, and this is a pair of episodes you won't want to miss. The first one dropping next Wednesday, May 3rd, and followed by the second episode on May 10th. We'll see you then, bingers.