The Killer

The hands that held my precious Abigial were stained red with my
victim's blood. I tucked the baby under my coat and stormed out of the
family home that would forever be known as the place Bobbie Jo Stinnett
died. After strapping my infant into her car seat I zoomed out of the
neighborhood hoping no one would ever find out who committed this
gruesome murder.

Bobbie Jo
“Goodbye Zeb, have a good day at work!” I shouted as my husband
was walking out the door.
“Love you,” he said back. I started cleaning the dishes from our
breakfast that morning. However, I quickly got tired because I was eight
months pregnant. Luckily the only thing I had to do that day was meet up
with Darlene Fisher, a potential buyer for one of my rat terriors. After talking
online numerous times I came to the conclusion that she seemed like a
sweet woman who also shared a passion for dogs. Ironically, she was also
eight months pregnant. As the hours passed I prepped for her until the
phone rang.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Hi Bobbie Jo, it’s mom. Can you pick me up from work today?”
“Sure!”
“Okay see you then.” Perfect, I would be able to meet with Darlene
and pick up my mom right after. A couple minutes had passed when there
was a knock at the door.
“Must be Darlene,” I thought. The dogs barked and ran to the door in
excitement . When I opened the door Darlene was there, ready to meet the
puppies.
“Hello! Aw, look at these cuties!” she greeted.
“Hi, come on in Darlene! The puppies are very excited to meet you!” I
welcomed her in and led her to the dining room. She took a seat at the
table and I turned my back to get her a glass of water.
“How was the drive here?” I asked. But before she could answer I felt
a cord wrap around my neck and everything went black. The next couple of
minutes were a blur. I woke up to the horrifying sight of Darlene gripping a
knife over my stomach that was gushing blood. While looking down at my
stomach I remembered my baby that could be born any day. I needed to
fight off Darlene so that my baby girl would be safe.
“Get off of me!” I shouted, pushing her off of me. With every ounce of
energy left in my body I got on all fours and picked myself off the ground. I
lunged for Darlene to try and snatch the knife. Trying to fight her off, I
grabbed onto her hair. My blood smeared all across the walls and floor, and
I continued to fight until everything returned to black. I fought for my baby
girl until my very last breath.

Becky Harper
It was around three o'clock and my daughter still hadn’t come to pick
me up. I hoped everything was okay, especially with the baby on the way. I
decided to walk to her house that was just two blocks down from my work.
When I knocked on the door there was no answer. That’s when I
discovered that the door was unlocked so I let myself in.
“Bobbie Jo!” I called, “Are you in here?” Panicking, I began to search
the house. She could have been resting so I went to the back of the house
where her bedroom was.
“Sweetie, are you in here?” There was no response. I made my way
back to the front of the house and into the dining room. That’s where I saw
something that no mother ever wants to see. Blood covered my sweet baby
to the point she looked unrecognizable. I felt like I was going to throw up or
pass out, maybe even both. My hands shook uncontrollably as I dialed 911.
“Nodaway county 911, what is your emergency?” the operator asked.
“My daughter’s blood is everywhere!” I panicked.
“What’s wrong?” the operator asked again. It was so hard to get the
words out so that the operator could understand me.
“My daughter is laying on the ground with blood everywhere!”
“Is she breathing?” I bent down to feel her pulse. Nothing.
“No!” Was my daughter gone? “She’s eight months pregnant. It looks
like her stomach has exploded!”

Sheriff Randy Strong

 This crime scene looked like it came straight out of a horror
movie. It was nothing like I had seen before. I couldn’t understand how this
could happen in the small, peaceful town of Skidmore, Missouri. The soles
of Bobbie Jo’s feet and even under her toenails were covered with blood,
indicating that she must have stood up in her own blood to fight off the
attacker. Strands of long blond hair were wrapped around her fingers,
maybe it was the killers. But the most horrifying part was that her baby was
no longer in her stomach. Someone had ripped this unborn baby from its
mother. An Amber Alert was sent out but not much information could be
given because no one knew what the baby looked like. When I finished the
assessment reporters were already lined up, ready to get the latest scoop
on the case. But there wasn’t much information to give other than the
innocent, soon to be mother, Bobbie Jo was dead. Would this become
another cold case?

Detective Curtis Howard

Ratter Chatter was the name of the website Stinnet sold her rat
terriers on. Many people that found out about the murder sent their
condolences to Bobbie Jo and her family through the site. But one user that
stood out to me went by the name Darlene Fisher. She planned to meet up
with Stinnett the day she was murdered. Through the conversations she
had with Bobbie Jo she claimed to also be eight months pregnant. I knew
this woman needed to be tracked down and it needed to be done soon.
She told Stinnett she only lived thirty minutes away. When I searched the IP
address it showed up three hours away in Kansas.
“Why would she lie about that?” There was a sudden knock on the
door.
“Hey Howard,” said one of my co-workers, “Bobbie Jo’s neighbor just
came foward said they saw a red Toyota Corolla parked in the driveway at
the time of the murder.”
“That’s a great start, but I just found something that might lead us to
the killer. A woman by the name Darlene Fisher was supposed to meet with
Bobbie Jo the day of the murder. Said she lives thirty minutes away from
Stinnet, but her IP address is telling me she lives in Kansas. It’s a little
suspicious that she would lie about that, don't you think?” I said.
 My co-worker shot me a grin and said, “Looks like we have our first
suspect!”

The Killer
My husband, Kevin, and I were in the living room admiring our brand
new baby. Little did Kevin know, I wasn’t the one who gave birth to this
baby the day before. An aggresive knock at our front door made both of us
jump. Kevin got up and walked over to the door. I assumed it was someone
coming to congratulate us on the baby and drop off a gift. But the confusion
and worry in my husband's voice said otherwise.
“H-hello,” he greeted.
“Hello sir, we are from the Skidmore Missouri Police Department. We
are looking for Darlene Fisher, is she here?” a voice at the door questioned.
My biggest fear had come true. I hoped my husband would say no since he
truly didn’t know a Darlene Fisher. Then the police would believe him and
be on their way.
“I’m afraid I don’t know who you are talking about,” he replied.
“We have a warrant out for her arrest. Could we come in and take a
look?” the voice asked.
“Say no, say no,” I pleaded over and over again in my head.
“Sure, but I’m telling you I have no clue who that is,” he said. I
gripped Abigail tightly in my arms, praying this wouldn’t be the last time I
held her. A group of police officers walked into the living room and one
locked eyes with me.
“There she is,” he said. My heart thumpmed out of my chest and onto
the floor. They came over to the couch where I was still sitting and reached
for Abigail. I tried pulling her away but I had no chance against the police.
“What’s going on? Give me back my daughter!” I screamed with tears
in my eyes. I had to act like I knew nothing about the murder if I didn’t want
to get caught.
“Mam, you are under arrest for the murder of Bobbie Jo Stinnet. You
have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used
against you in the court of law,” the officer said as he picked me off the
couch and put cuffs on me.
 “Let go of me!” I damanded. They started their way towards the front
door and out to the police car. Kevin followed us out with no clue what was
going on.
“It’s okay baby! Just cooperate with them and we’ll get this figured
out!” he said. The men threw me in the car and slammed the door. I saw
Kevin jump into our red Toyota Corolla to follow us to the station. As we
pulled out of the driveway tears rolled down my face. It felt like the longest
car ride of my life.

When I arrived at the station they took me to a questioning room. As

long as I kept my story straight foward and didn’t reveal my true identity,
everything would be okay. Two officers walked in and took a seat at the
other end of the table.
“Mrs. Fisher, do you know why you are here?” one officer asked.
“No. Where’s my baby, is she okay?” I panicked. Not a bad start, I
stuck to my character.
“She’s in good hands and doing well. However she did have a small
scratch on her eyelid. Do you have any idea how that may have
happened?” he questioned. My palms started to sweat.
“She was born with it.”
“And she was born yesterday, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell us a little bit of information about the birth?” My leg
started tapping on the floor rapidly.
“Yes. While my husband was at work I started to go into labor. I gave
birth at home and it was a quick labor and delivery. After I had the baby a
couple of hours later I met up with Kevin at Long John Silvers, a local fish
restaurant to celebrate the birth of our new baby.” After pleading my case
they started to explain all of the evidence they had against me. The
messages I had with Bobbie Jo prior to the incident, the strands of blond
hair wrapped around her fingers that matched mine, and the red Toyota
Corolla in her driveway at the time of the murder that looked like the one
parked in my driveway. I needed to think of a solid and believable story. But
for some reason I blanked.
 “I can’t do this!” I started to break down. “I did it! I tricked Bobbie Jo,
murdered her, then stole her baby! And my name isn’t Darlene Fisher, it’s
Lisa Montgomery, that was just a fake name.” The words just slipped out of
my mouth. I didn’t even try to say them. But that’s all I needed to say for
them to lock me up for the rest of my life.

Lisa Montgomery
On January 13, 2021, I was sitting in my cell for the last time,
reminiscing my whole life.
“How did I get to this point?” was the question I asked myself over
and over again. It all started with severe abuse as a child. Infact, the only
memories I have of my childhood are the times my parents would lock me
outside the house on cold winter nights. Or when my mother would sell my
body to random men just to go out and buy more alcohol with the money I
had made her. But the worst memory of all was being forced to marry my
stepbrother, Carl, at the age of eighteen. I hoped the abuse would stop
when I had a husband to protect me but he ended up being just like my
parents. Everyone in my life that I thought I could trust ended up being evil.
I felt so alone and helpless. We had four children together, children that I
didn’t agree to having. After that, Carl demanded me to get my tubes tied
so he could continue to do whatever he wanted to me, without the worry of
getting pregnant. I went through with it because I was scared of him. After
all I had done for him he filed for divorce. Carl got the two eldest children
and I got the two youngest. Little did I know this divorce would be the first
step to turning my life around. I went on to meet the first man that ever
treated me with respect. His name was Kevin Montgomery and it was love
at first sight. My life was full and I had everything I ever wanted, except for
one thing, a child with Kevin. He wasn’t aware that I wasn’t able to get
pregnant, no one did, except Carl. So it was no shock to Kevin when I
showed him two lines on a pregnancy test. It was actually negative. I just
drew the second line on with red marker. But he was so excited to meet
“our new baby.” However, I started to develop symptoms of pregnancy. I
had headaches, morning sickness, and my stomach even grew. Turns out I
was mentally ill and had a disease that made me think I was pregnant even
though it was physically impossible. But the one person that still knew I
wasn’t pregnant was Carl. He used my psychoticness against me because
he wanted custody of the two youngest kids we had together. I wasn’t going
to let that happen so I needed to prove I was pregnant. But how? This was
a thought that ran through my brain numerous times each day for weeks.
That was until one day when I was on a site called “Ratter Chatter'' and I
found a woman named Bobbie Jo Stinnet, who was about to give birth to a
baby girl. I had conversations with her through the website about adopting
one of the dogs she bred. We agreed to meet up on December sixteenth,
and that’s when I decided I would take not only her baby, but her life. After
the crime was done and I showed my new baby to the world. Carl was
astounded and confused. Life went on as usual until the cops came. That's
when my life turned back to what it was, lonely and depressing. My
thoughts were interupted by two guards coming to get me from my cell.
With every step I took to the next room, the closer I got to my fate. We
arrived at a tall metal door that needed a key in order to enter. One of the
guards scanned his card and when I walked in I saw a chair that looked like
one you would see at the dentist. Next to it was a tray with a needle and a
small bottle holding some liquid. There was a window with people behind it,
ready to watch me perish. These were the people I had hurt many years
ago when I murdered Bobbie Jo. A woman walked over to the tray as she
was putting on gloves. She opened the bottle, stuck the needle in it, and
started filling it with the fluid. The guards walked me over to the chair and
strapped me in. The day I had dreaded for decades started to feel real as
butterflies filled my stomach.
“Any last words?” the woman said. This was it, the last time I would
ever speak. It was my chance to get it all out.
“No,” I said stubbornly. That’s all I could say without breaking down. I
just wanted to get this over with. The woman raised the needle and
directed it towards my arm. I looked away and felt a pinch. The deadly
liquid started to travel through my veins as breathing slowly became more
difficult. Pain attacked my body and I started to panic. Then I realized this
must be the pain and fear I put Bobbie Jo through. This was pure karma. I
tried to gasp for air but nothing filled my lungs.
“Breathe, just breathe,” I told myself with a little bit of hope the drug
wouldn’t work. But at the same time I wanted to be put out of my misery. I
tried to take a big gasp for air, and then I tried it one more time until
everything became black.
 Sources

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www.chillingcrimes.com/blogs/news/bobbie-jo-stinnett. Accessed 21 Sept.
2023.

Hrenchir, Tim. “Lisa Montgomery, a Kansan Who Cut a Baby from a

Mother’s Womb, Faces Execution Soon. Here Is Her Story.” Lisa
Montgomery’s Federal Execution Nears, Killed Woman, Cut out Baby,
Topeka Capital-Journal, 7 Jan. 2022,
www.cjonline.com/in-depth/news/2021/01/07/lisa-montgomery-federal-exec
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