Most cold case investigators will tell you that murder is a dirty business. But once in a while, there’s a murder so horrific that it could be mistaken for an urban legend.  The unsolved homicide of Benjamin is one of those cases.  It began on a summer evening much like any other for Benjamin. He left his apartment and headed off to his local bar just a few blocks away from home in Bridgeport’s East End. No doubt the neighbors expected to see him the next day, as they usually did – singing Spanish love songs on his porch. But that’s not how things transpired… Benjamin’s story would end with a grim discovery in the middle of a road just a five-minute drive from his apartment.

It was Memorial Day weekend in 2010, and hot as hades in North Carolina, when 22-year-old Terrance “Konomi” Plummer Junior was found murdered in a crime so brutal—and so deliberate—that it stayed with everyone who touched the case—especially Lt. Jeff Locklear. What began as another homicide investigation became the one case he could never shake—his White Whale. More than a decade later, the answer would come from something investigators had possessed all along. And information they never knew existed—finally solving Plummer's murder and giving Locklear something he'd spent years chasing: closure.

When Beverly Logan, a gentle, 56-year-old certified nurse’s aide, was found murdered in her kitchen, the Salina, Kansas Police Department found themselves on the hunt for her killer. They believe it might have been someone she knew. But over 18 years later, who that person is has remained a mystery.

In late June 1987, the town of Bemidji, Minnesota, was gearing up for Independence Day weekend. Celebrations quickly turned to panic when Anita Carlson, a college graduate with hopes of working in TV production, went missing from her nighttime job at Pete’s Place, a convenience store at the intersection of Highways 2 and 89. By the end of the weekend, Anita had been found dead. Nearly 40 years later, investigators are still trying to figure out what happened that night.

A message from Ashley about the future of The Deck

On August 6, 1989, Rosa McMillian was found murdered inside that home. She had been brutally attacked—and sexually assaulted—in her own living room. The crime scene didn't make sense, and a few mysterious items were left behind by whoever killed Rosa. Something else left behind? The killer's DNA. In most cases, that would be enough to close the books. But in Rosa’s case…DNA isn’t what brought answers. In fact, it’s the opposite…and the one thing that would keep a solve out of reach.

On a cold December night in 2018, 25-year-old Kevin Nguyen went to see a band at a Fort Wayne bar and never came home. Surveillance cameras captured his final known hours in eerie fragments before he vanished. What happened next has fueled years of rumors, online theories, and bitter disagreements between investigators and Kevin’s family. With unreleased video evidence, mysterious tips about a possible killing, and no trace of Kevin ever found, his disappearance remains one of Indiana’s most haunting unsolved mysteries.

In February 2013, 21-year-old Kelsie Schelling had just learned she was eight weeks pregnant. Hours after her first prenatal appointment, she drove from Denver to Pueblo -  and was never seen again. Kelsie’s body has never been found. But years later, someone was convicted of her murder. How do investigators build a case without a body? And after more than a decade, is there still a chance of finding Kelsie?

For more than three decades, the family of Milagros Nieves never talked about her murder.  She’d been stabbed 33 times in the presence of her beloved baby granddaughter. The violence of it, the brutality of it, was too much for her family to relive. But when our team at The Deck started looking into Milagros’ case, they uncovered information that would leave everyone,  including investigators, with even more questions.

In July 1984, Clarence and Marjorie Paulson, father and daughter, were reported missing from their home in Minnesota. At first glance, sheriff’s deputies didn’t see any obvious signs of a struggle. Marjorie and Clarence didn’t have driver’s licenses, and the three-wheeler Clarence used to travel was still at his house. Marjorie’s purse and knitting needles were left behind. Neighbors didn’t offer much of an explanation about where they’d gone – the two were considered reclusive, but known to travel into town every so often. But a closer examination of the home revealed more to the story. And six years after reported missing, detectives found the unthinkable.