The I-70 Killer

earning the chilling nickname the Ie seventy Killer. Three decades later, their identity still remains a mystery, and the deadly events still haunts the road that they once prowled. This is the unsolved story of the Eye's seventy Killer.

you ready, okay. In the spring of nineteen ninety two, a shadow slipped quietly along America's highways, a figure who targeted unsuspecting store clerks in small, quiet shops scattered across the Midwest. This was no ordinary criminal. The man who became known as the I seventy Killer left behind a trail of devastation across Indiana, Kansas, and Missouri, killing six

people in less than one month with chilling precision. His method was always the same, a sudden execution style gunshot to the back of the head, a small amount of cash taken, and then he'd vanished back into the endless ribbon of the Interstate. Now to understand the I seventy Killer, though, you first have to understand his hunting grounds. The Interstate seventy. It isn't just any road. It's a massive stretch of highway running east to west across more than two thousand,

one hundred miles of the United States. From the crowded streets of Baltimore, Maryland, to the rugged landscapes of Utah. I seventy cuts straight through the heart of the country in the Midwest. It winds through Indiana, Missouri, and Kansas, the very states where the killings would take place. These highways are a lifeline for commerce and travel, but they

also offer something darker, obscurity. On any given day, thousands of cars flow through the rest stops, the gas stations, in small town shopping plazas, or whatever you may find. Drivers come and go without notice, blending into the endless movement. It's easy to arrive unnoticed, and even easier to leave unnoticed. The killer seems to have figured this out and understand

this perfectly. He didn't choose crowded malls or bustling city streets. Instead, he struck at small specialty shops tucked just off the highway, placed where only one employee might be working, where security cameras or any other measurements were almost non existent, and

where an outsider wouldn't raise any immediate suspicion. So to say the least, it was the perfect environment for someone who wanted to kill quickly and then slip away and disappear into the rolling miles of asphalt in Cornfield and just go now. The first known victim of the I seventy killer was a woman by the name of Robin Flauder, a twenty six year old store manager with a bright

future ahead of her. On April eighth, nineteen ninety two, Robin was covering an afternoon shift at the Paylist's Shoe source, located at seven three two five Pendleton Pike in Indianapolis, Indiana. She hadn't planned to work that day. She was stepping in for an employee who had called out. The Paylist's store was quiet, sitting on the outskirts of the city, with minimal staff and no security cameras. The only precaution was a simple door buzzer that chimed whenever anyone entered

the store. That afternoon, Robin was working alone. Police would later reconstruct a rough timeline of what happened. The last known transaction at the red occurred at one twelve PM, a customer purchased a pair of men's shoes and a pair of women's as well, short time after tragedy would strike. Investigators believe that the killer entered the store, likely pretending to browse and be a patron, but once he confirmed Robin was alone, he led her to the back stock

room at gunpoint. There, using a twenty two caliber pistol, he shot her execution style in the back of the head, not once, but twice. He then emptied the register, but it still estimated that he stole less than a few hundred dollars. He then fled through the rear exit, disappearing before anyone could react. That is some scary shit, yep. Do you know.

I don't know.

there dead. The scene was chilling, and at first the investigators assumed it was a robbery gone wrong, a tragic but not unheard of type event. No one suspected that they were looking at the first victim in a much larger pattern of violence that was about to sweep across the Midwest. As police campassed the area, a nearby paint store manager came forward with an eerie Sighting before the murder, he had noticed a disheveled man in a green coat

sitting on a curb across from the Payless shoes. He was rifling through a bag and staring at the store. The man had lingered for about thirty or forty minutes, talking and giggling to himself. Right before the sirens wailed and the police came, the witness saw him attempt to hitchhike towards the nearby interstate. Just three days after Robin's murder, the killer struck again, but this time there were two

victims instead of one. On April eleventh, nineteen ninety two, in Wichita, Kansas, a small bridle shop called Labride Elegance became the site of the next attack. The shop was located at four to six y one three East Kellogg Drive, not far from the busy intersection of I thirty five and I seventy. Like the payless store, it was an unassuming, lightly staffed business, a vulnerable target hidden in plain sight.

That Saturday evening, thirty two year old Patricia Majors, the store owner, and her employee, twenty three year old Patricia Smith, they are both Patricia's, had agreed to stay late to accommodate a male customer who needed to pick up a Cumberland for the for an event. Now, the store's normal closing time was around six pm, but The two women waited inside, expecting a routine transaction. What they got instead

was a nightmare. Sometime around fifteen, a man knocked on the locked front door, believing he was the expected customer. One of the women let him inside, but he wasn't there for a pickup. Armed with a twenty two caliber semi automatic pistol, the man forced both women back into the office. There he executed them two gunshots to the back of their heads. Like Indianapolis, the cast register was emptied,

but only a small amount of money was missing. The killer might have escaped unnoticed if not for a small twist of fate. The real customer arrived to pick up that cumber Bund. I think, I said Cumberland. At first it's a cumber Bund. Just minutes later, oh.

made an anonymous call. About an hour later. Police arrived and they found the store keys still dangling in the front door lock. In the back room, both Patricia Majors and Patricia Smith were found shot. Patricia Majors was found pronounced dead at the scene, but Patricia Smith, however, was found fatally wounded and still clinging to life. She was rushed to hospital but died later that night.

On April twenty seventh, nineteen ninety two, more than two weeks after the Wichita double homicide, the I seventy killers struck again, but this time the victim was a male. Michael McCown age forty, was working alone at Sylvia's Ceramics. His mother's small ceramic shop located at two six one five South third Street in Terry Hout, Indiana, just off

Interstate seventy. Michael wasn't originally supposed to work that day, a pattern the killer seemed to exploit again and again, but had decided to come in after a chiropractor appointment earlier that morning. At around four PM, a customer entered the store and made a horrifying discovery. Michael was lying just inside the front area, dead from a gunshot wound to the back of the head. Police determined that the

attack had been sudden and close range. Evidence suggested that Michael had been stalking shelves, possibly retrieving a small ceramic house for a customer, when the killer crept up behind him and pulled the trigger. Gunpowder stippling from around the wound indicated that the pistol had been fired from less than four inches away, nearly contacting him when the shot was fired.

or had Michael simply not been the intended target. Some theorized that Michael, who had long brown hair and wore a small earring, might have been mistaken for a woman from behind the store's name, Sylvia Ceramics, could have reinforced a false assumption potentially. However, family members later clarified that at the time of his death, Michael had cut his hair short, making it much less likely that he would be confused for a female employee, especially at close range.

When the killer attacked right right now. I mean there is a whole thing around gender and identity. But so we're talking assuming someone's gender from behind. Did the killer do that? Get it wrong? The family doesn't think so, okay. Additionally, given the killer's usual method of leading victims to the back room, Michael's murder seemed to be more upper opportunistic. That that's the word I was looking for. There you go.

He was attacked at the shop floor, right out front, right without any effort to isolate him.

hadn't originally been scheduled to work that day. On May third, nineteen ninety two, Nancy Kitts Miller, a twenty four year old college graduate, was managing the boot Village store at the Boya Hills Plaza in Saint Charles, Missouri, a busy shopping center located just off Interstate seventy. Nancy was bright, energetic, with big plans in her life. She had recently graduated with a degree in geography from Oklahoma State University and had just accepted a job offer at the Defense Mapping

Agency in Saint Louis. Her new career was only a few weeks away, but on that Sunday afternoon, she was filling in for a coworker who had called in sick. Nancy opened the store around noon, and by two thirty pm, several shoppers had seen her helping a customer, a man matching the earlier composite description, white male, medium height, slender bill, dull or light brown hair, and minutes later, new customers

entered the shop, only to find it eerily empty. When they've entered into the back office, they made a chilling discovery. Nancy was dead shot, execution style in the back of the head, just like the victims before.

that the same man was responsible for the string of murders. Still, despite multiple witnesses and a growing public awareness, the killer once again just slipped away without a trace, blending back into the maze of highways that Chris crossed across the country. On May seventh, nineteen ninety two, just four days after Nancy Kitzmiller's murder, the I seventy killer struck again for what would become the last confirmed time along the interstate.

The target this time was Sarah Blessing, a thirty four year old shop owner in Raytown, Missouri, a suburb just east of Kansas City. Sarah had recently opened a small business called Store of Many Colors, located in Woodson Village shopping center, about two miles from the interstate. Her shop was quiet new age boutique and sold herbal remedies, crystals, and spiritual wellness items. That evening, at around six fifteen pm, Tim Hickman, who owned a neighboring video rental store, noticed

an unfamiliar man loitering around the shop center. The men seemed slightly at a place, wearing a gray sports coat, and it was too heavy for that warm spring day. He was also seen peering into Hickman's front store window before eventually walking next door to Sarah's shop. Moments later, Hickman heard a sharp pomping noise, a sound that he

would later realize was a gunshop. Oh brutal. He rushed outside and caught a glimpse of the man calmly exiting the store of many colors rounding the corner of the building without hurrying. The stranger walked across the parking lot, climbed an embankment, and disappeared into the neighborhood streets, heading roughly towards Interstate seventy. When Hickman entered Sarah's shop, he found a terrible scene. Sarah was lying face down at the back of her store, dead from a single gunshot

wound to the head. Like the other victims, she appeared to have been led towards the back room before being killed. Small amount of cass was missing from the register, but valuables and other money remained untouched. Hickman's eyewitness account helped police refine their composite sketch yet again even further. Additional witnesses also reported seeing a man matching the same general description near the shopping center around the time of the killings,

reinforcing the pattern investigators had begun to build. With Sarah's death, the Midwest bree came to a chilling pause. Over the course of just one month, from April eighth to May seventh, in nineteen ninety two, the I seventy killer had murdered six people across three states. Each victim was shot in the back of the head with the same twenty two caliber fire arm, and each killing occurred in a small, low traffic retail store situated near a major highway entrance.

Police departments across Indiana, Kansas, and Missouri scrambled to coordinate their investigation. Forensic ballistics confirmed the same gun had been used in every crime. The media was warned of a serial killer stocking the I seventy corridor, but despite increased security, public warnings, and heavy media coverage, the killer seemed to vanish without any sort of trace, just as quickly as

he appeared. Now By the time Sarah Blessing's murder shocked the small town of Raytown, Missouri, investigators had already realized that the killings were not random acts of violence. A clear and chilling pattern was starting to emerge, one that stretched across hundreds of miles in connecting the six innocent victims to a single, unknown predator. The first thing detective

noticed was the similarity between the victims. Five out of six were young women, typically with their in their early twenties or the early thirties, with dark hair and petite builds. There were employees of small specialty shops, shoe stores, ceramic shops, bridal boutiques, the kind of businesses that usually only staff one worker at a time. The sole male victim, Michael McCown,

initially puzzled investigators. In some theorized he was mistaken for a woman, as I mentioned earlier, especially given the store's name, Sylvia's Ceramics, and reported it. Reports that he had even worn an earring which helped reinforce that also the potential long hair, But I digress. However, family members confirmed you know the short one, short hair right. What remained, though consistent, was every victim was working alone at a shop located

just off these highway entrances. In every case, the killer used that same twenty two caliber semi automatic pistol to execute his victims with a shot to the back of the head. There was no prolonged violence, no clear sign of any sort of struggle, and no meaningful theft. Only small amounts of petty cash really, or few hundred dollars at most purses, wallets, large valuables were often left behind, while the money was generally only ever taken from the registers.

Witnesses who had spotted the suspect before the murders described him in similar ways, a white male of average build, thin, dull or red light brown hair, often stubbled or slightly unkept. On two occasions, people observed him loitering around shopping classes, talking and laughing to himself, behavior that at the time seemed odd but harmless. Man hindsight, of course, suggested something

much darker. Man, either mentally and well, or so detached from reality that he could carry out murders in broad daylight without any sign of panic and in fact just laughed about it instead.

Either the killer worked in an industrial environment where those materials were present, okay, or he was a gun hobbyist who modified and maintained his own weapon. Okay.

authorities in Texas faced a string of settling cases. Once again, the victims were women working along small shops located near major interstates. Once again, the murders involved execution style shootings, and once again the cash stolen was minimal, suggesting robbery wasn't the real motive for the first of these Texas cases.

It occurred in September. On the twenty fifth in nineteen ninety three, in Fort Worth, Mary Anne Glasgock, a fifty one year old woman, was found dead inside her antique store, Emporium Antiques, near the I thirty interstate, not far from where the busy I thirty five corridor is. She'd been shot in the head. Her pants were found partially removed, and while a small amount of money was taken, it was clear that the crime was not just about theft.

A few weeks later, on November one, nineteen ninety three, twenty two year old Amy Vess was working the evening shift at Dancer's Closet, a dance work store in Arlington, Texas. Like the victims in the Midwest, she wasn't supposed to be working that night. She'd been called in to cover for someone else. At some point between six fifteen and six point thirty, a man entered the store. It led Amy to the back room, and there shot her twice, once in the neck and once in the back of

the head. Amy was somehow able to call nine one one after being shot, but she tragically slipped into a coma and died the next day. Holy. The fact that she was able to call is unreal. Yeah. Then on January fifteenth, nineteen ninety four, another attack occurred, but this time the victim survived. Vicki Webb, a thirty five year old woman working at Alternatives gift shop in Houston, had just opened her store for the day when a man entered. They spoke casually for a while before he asked her

to retrieve a small picture frame. As she turned to help him, the man shot her in the back of the neck. Miraculously, Vicki didn't die. Though initially paralyzed, she survived by pretending to be dead as the attacker rifled through the cash register. When he returned, he attempted to fire a second shot into her head, but the gun misfired. Whoa startled by the noises from a neighboring business, the man fled the scene.

you in the nineteen ninety two spree. Now, some investigators argue that the killer could have simply switched guns, knowing that the police had already publicized details about his previous weapon totally. Others pointed to a significant similarities in victims' profile, methods, behaviors, etc. Saying that it was was it the same man? A few detectives believed it was almost certainly the same, while others remained unconvinced.

for more than a year. For decades, law enforcement and amateur sleuths alike have combed through leads looking for the man who terrorized small towns shops along the interstates. Over the years, a handful of names have risen to the surface, some briefly, others with chilling credibility. Yet no suspect has ever been formally charged in the I seventy murders. One of the earliest serious leads came in nineteen ninety two, when authorities arrested a man by the name of Donald

Waterhouse in Ponca City, Oklahoma. Waterhouse had murdered his own mother and stepfather that February, shooting them both in the head with a twenty two caliber weapon at grim parallel to the I seventy killers method. Adding to suspicion, Waterhouse abandoned. His abandoned vehicle was found near East Saint Louis, not far from Interstate seventy. At first, it seemed like a major break in the case. Ballistic tests in Waterhouse's background

gave investigators hope, but over time inconsistencies emerged. By that summer, authorities announced that Waterhouse was no longer considered a viable suspect. He was, however, sentenced to fifty years in prison for the murder of his family, but the link to the I seventy killings fell apart. Sorry, what exactly was the link?

that connection was later overturned. Now, at the time of the I seventy murders, Robert was living in Springfield, Missouri, not far from several of the murder scenes. He was even suspected of in the disappearance of three women in Springfield in nineteen ninety two. Yet, despite the circumstantial ties, no concrete evidence ever linked Robert to the I seventy killings, and he has consistently denied any involvement. Now, perhaps one of the most chilling possible connections, though, is a man

by the name of Herb Baucemeister Bowmeister. There we go, Bowmeister, the notorious Fox Hollow farm killer. Now, Herb was a successful Indianapolis businessman with a respectable family life on the surface. Behind closed doors, however, he was a predator who targeted young men, many of whom were found buried on his property after his death. Now police have considered Herb a possible match for the I seventy killer based on several factors. He lived in Indianapolis during the time of the murders.

He matched the physical description with the average height, the red tinted hair, the slight build. He even had extensive experience cruising highways and public spaces for his victims. Some investigators even believe that Herb could be linked to the I seventy Strangler, a different case entirely, which was a series of murders involving young men found along the interstate in nineteen eighties. So this is the I seventy killer, that's the I seventy strangler. However, the victim profiles don't

line up perfectly. Herb primarily targeted young men, while the I seventy killer prayed almost exclusively on women. Now, Herb died of suicide in nineteen ninety six, leaving behind a vague and apologetic note but no direct confession to any sort of murders. Other theories Sworld II. Some investigators have sped sculated that the I seventy killer may have had military ties, explaining his ability to move quickly across multiple states.

Others suggest he might have been a traveling salesman, a truck driver, or a construction worker, jobs that offered easy access to interstates and freedom to vanish each time after a crime occurred. There's even a theory that the killer parked in nearby residential neighborhoods and walked to his targets, keeping his vehicle out of sight to avoid witnesses and security cameras. When it comes to the I seventy killer, hard physical evidence has always been frustratingly scarce. Yet the

few forensic breadcrumbs that did leave behind any help. It's really hard to really do anything, though it is still relied on today. At the heart of the case is that twenty two caliber semi automatic pistol. The tests, as I mentioned, confirmed that they were all used in the

I seventy killings, connecting the same weapon. The ammunition recovered was Cci brand twenty two caliber long rifle rounds common and very easy to obtain, which made tracing them almost impossible, but there was something odd about the bullets themselves, as I mentioned. On multiple shell casings, investigators found traces of that abrasive material corundum and rogue roge sorryish and like

a polishing compound. Both substances are typically used in industrial grinding and metalwork, but also known to be used by gun enthusiasts who modify and maintain their firearms. See. This led to the theories about something called fire lapping, a process where bullets are coated with this with unabrasive and are fired through the barrel to clean or slightly alter the rifling of the firearm. It's a technique used by

hobbyists looking to tweak the performance of their guns. If the killer was that knowledgeable about firearms, it pointed to someone methodical, someone who took pride in preparation. Even investigators eventually narrowed down the possible weapon models of two unusual guns, so it could possibly be the Introtex Scorpion or the Irma work Et twenty two. Both were rare and distinctive, particularly the Irma, a German made collector's piece modeled after

the historic World War One side arm. It wasn't the kind of weapon an average street criminal would carry this reinforce the growing belief that the I seventy killer was not a petty robber but some something more far calculating and as you mentioned, you know, having someone who's like a connoisseur of guns, almost like a collector even. Yeah, but still this idea only gives a potential glimpse into the mind of the killer and not exactly who they were.

And it's frustrating to say that the police needed more than that. Yeah, they sure did. Now. Originally, when the I seventy killer first struck in nineteenninety two, law enforcement agencies across Indiana, Kansas, and Missouri moved quickly to respond. Task force They were formed almost overnight in hopes of finding the culprit. Local police departments, state authorities, and the FBI all began sharing information, a relatively new practice at

the time for serial crimes across state lines. At first, investigators were flooded with leads, witnesses, descriptions they poured in. Composite sketches were created, ballistics linked the murders conclusively, and yet as quickly as the evidence seemed to gather, it led absolutely nowhere. One major early misstep was the public

release about the information on the killer's weapon. Authorities announced that they believe the shooter was using that rare erma E twenty two or Intertex scorpion, very specific distinctive guns. They also revealed the discovery of the polishing compound on the shell casings. While the attention to generate tips was good, you know, they're hoping that this information could help, it's believed now that it had the opposite effect, that it

actually tipped off the killer. Okay, After the final confirmed Midwest murder of Sarah Blessing, the I seventy killers suddenly stopped, or at least changed his pattern so drastically that he avoided further detection. Over the years, the case grew colder. Despite being featured in major national shows like Unsolved Mysteries

America's Most Wanted, no arrests were made. The suspect pool at one point included over sixty seven thousand names, and it slowly shranked to a handful of persons of interest, and none of whom could ever be definitively tied to the crimes. In twenty twelve, on the twentieth anniversary of the spree, investigators renewed public attention to the case. They revealed new forensic insight, like the likely weapon types, the

contaminated shell casings, behavioral profile. They put this back out there. They hope that the advance is in the forensic science, particularly the DNA technology, could finally crack the case. But true momentum didn't build again until October twenty twenty one, when the Saint Charles Police Department announced the formation of a new multi agency task force. This task force included the FBI, ATF and multiple state local agencies from across Indiana, Missouri,

and Kansas. Their goal to completely re examine the entire

investigation from scratch using modern methods. Among their new initiatives submitting old physical evidence for DNA testing using highly sensitive new techniques, creating an age progressed sketch of the killer, imagining how he might look in his sixties or seventies, Reviewing thousands of pages of reports, evidence logs, and dispatch records with fresh eyes, cross referencing cases that had similar patterns, including the unsolved murders in Texas that we talked about,

and leaven even later incidences as far as in Indiana in two thousand and one. For investigators, there is a sense of cautious optimism. DNA technology has solved countless cold cases once thought hopeless. Even the tiniest fragment of hair or drop of blood, a touch of on a doorknob, who knows, could be enough to build a genetic profile and match it through the genealogical Here we Go database now,

as famously done to capture the Golden State killer. Right, so that's kind of what they're hoping potentially help solve this now you can only help. Still, time is running out. If the I seventy killer was in his thirties or four days during the original murder, he would likely be in his sixties or even seventies today. He could still be alive but aging, hiding in plain sight, just as he was during that bloody spring in nineteen ninety two. Or he could have died, taking the truth with him. Yep.

For now, the task force continues its painstaking work, even today, after three decades have passed since the I seventy killers rampage. Each victim left behind the family. They left behind friends, dreams, and futures that were brutally cut short. Each was simply doing their job, living their life, and when a stranger walked in, they stole everything. Robin Flounder was twenty six years old working hard as a store manager at Peles Shue Source in Indianapolis. She dreamed of starting a family.

One day, she wasn't supposed to be working that afternoon, but she stepped up when a coworker called in sick, a simple act of responsibility that unknowingly placed her in the killer's path. Patricia Major's thirty two in Patricia Smith twenty three were at the beginning of new chapters in their lives. Managers had opened lebride Elegance, proud to run her own bridle shop, and Patricia Smith was a nursing student in Wichita State University working part time as a

bridal consultant. They stayed late on Sunday night to help a customer, showing kindness and dedication, and were instead met with violence. Michael mccow forty had spent years traveling as a musician before returning home to indian Apple to help his mother run her ceramics shop. He was a fixture in the community, kind, hard working, and loved by friends and family. He wasn't even supposed to be at work

that day. He had thought about taking the day off, but duty simply called Nancy kits Miller twenty four was a bright and ambitious young woman with a newly earned geographic geography degree from Oklahoma State. She had just landed a position at the Defense Mapping Agency and was weeks away from starting her dream job. She picked up an extra shift at Boot Village to help out a coworker,

one final act of generosity that cost her everything. Sarah Blessing thirty seven, had just opened her own shop, store of many colors, selling herbal remedies and spiritual goods. A published poet and a believer in healing, she was trying to build a life rooted in kindness and creativity. She had been in business just three weeks when the killer

found her. And beyond them, there are others possible victims of the I seventy Kis Killer who were residing in Texas, including Mary Anne glasgowck Amy Vess, and Vicki Webb, who survived but carries her own haunting memories. Each of these victims were loved, each had stories, talents, and futures that will never fully be known. The I seventy killer left behind more than shellcasings and crime scenes. He left behind broken families, empty chairs at dinner tables, and decades of

unanswered grief. He ripped a hole through communities, one that was never fully healed. When we talk about the need for justice and cold cases like this, it isn't just about solving a puzzle or closing a file. It's about honoring each and every one of these victims, about giving them dignity of being seen, remembered, and fought for, even after all of these years. They weren't just names on

a list. They were people, and they deserve better than to be forgotten instead of us just remembering the I seventy killer. And that's the story for Tis.

will be released. Exclusive episode being released tomorrow at the end of every month. Yeah, all that good good stuff. Hey, all that good good. You're good good. I'm rubbing off on you. You are always so until next episode. Stay Wicked.