5-Time Felon Refused to Kill Raul Mena: A True Crime Case

[0:02] A man walks in late. He's driven hours to be here, and traffic and the weather almost kept him away. [0:11] He doesn't take a seat in the gallery. No, he's sworn in, and he walks to the front of the courtroom. And he looks at the woman in the defendant's chair, the woman who was hired to kill him, and he says, thank you for saving my life. He thanks her for letting him wake up with his children every morning, for their birthdays, the Christmases, for sparing them the pain of losing their father. The woman he's speaking to is Rebecca Murphy. Five-time convicted felon. Drug charges, assault, fraud. The kind of record that makes people just discard you and write you off. [1:05] Three Alabama sisters hired her to commit murder. They gave her money, a gun, directions to the victim's house, instructions to wait for a thunderstorm so the gunfire wouldn't attract attention. They hired her because they could control her, and she was supposed to be disposable. A desperate woman with nothing to lose, who'd do what needed to be done and then disappear. [1:43] Instead, she picked up the phone and called the FBI. [1:50] This is a story of how a family's certainty led to a murder-for-hire plot that spanned two states involved five defendants and one moral choice that none of them expected. Hi, I'm Steve Rode, and I've spent 30 years as an investigative writer, tracking financial criminals and years in emergency services as a police dispatcher, surveillance photographer, and Chief Pilot for Public Safety Operations. You're listening to True Crime Cases You Haven't Heard. And if you're new here, this is the podcast that digs into the cases no one else is covering. Cases with real documents and real stakes and stories that deserve to be told. If that sounds like something you want more of, which you do, Well, then hit subscribe or follow. You won't regret it. And a quick note, everything you'll hear today comes from federal court documents, sworn testimony, and verified news reporting. When I'm working from allegations rather than proven facts, I'll tell you that. But that's not how I roll. That's the deal. [3:18] Baldwin County, Alabama, eastern shore of Mobile Bay. When I was in college in Louisiana, I spent a lot of time driving the back roads. The kind of roads that don't show up on most maps. No. Dirt roads that ended in small cemeteries. Small communities where everybody knows everybody else and where the pace is different. Where time moves at its own speed. And I remember the first time I saw Spanish moss hanging from live oaks. If you've never seen it in person, if you've only lived in cities or suburbs, you can't imagine what it's like. It looks like something out of a movie, otherworldly, like the trees are wearing the history of the place. [4:09] Baldwin County feels just like that. Fairhope is the biggest of the small towns here. It shows up on those best places to retire lists. Boutique shops along the main drag. A farmer's market on Saturday mornings where you can buy local honey and boiled peanuts. The town was founded in 1894 as a utopian colony. A community built on the idea that people could create something better together. And that history still shows in the flower-lined sidewalks and the annual arts festival that's drawn 200 artists for over 70 years. [4:56] Now, Silver Hill is smaller. It's rural. And a few thousand people spread along the county roads, where the lots are big and the fences are low. And Foley sits about 20 minutes south, closer to the coast, with its outlet malls and beach traffic. Three sisters lived across these communities. Sandra Grimes, 57, who moved to Niceville, Florida, another Gulf Coast town a few hours east. Judy Owen, 61, in Silverhill, and Mitzi Gay Smith, 54, in Fairhope. [5:42] They were close. I mean, close enough to have each other's phone numbers on speed dial and have them in memory. Close enough to discuss family problems together. And when Sandra Grimes' daughter's marriage started coming apart at the seams, well, it became all three sisters' problem. Sandra Grimes had a daughter named Irma Nicole Bauer. According to federal court documents, Bauer was married to a man, Raul Mena. They had three children together. And at some point, for some reason, that the public records don't fully explain, that family fractured. [6:30] By 2022, the custody battle between Bauer and Mena had landed in a Louisiana courtroom. And when I say custody battle, I want you to understand what the court actually decided, because listen up, it matters. The Louisiana Fifth Circuit Court of Appeal said, and the records from May 2022 show, that the trial court granted Bauer supervised visitation only with her three children. Not the father the mother had supervised visitation not custody not joint custody but only supervised visitation what does that tell you? Well that means a court had looked at the evidence and determined that Bauer could see her children only under supervision for a limited time in a specific location, The court had found that Raoul Mena had primary custody of those three kids. [7:43] He was raising them in Marrow, Louisiana, a quiet, working-class suburb on the west bank of the Mississippi, only 12 miles southwest of downtown New Orleans, the kind of place where the streets flood after a hard rain and the evening air smells like crawfish. Now, here's where the story starts to fracture. According to the federal criminal complaint, the sisters believed Mena was abusing Bauer. They alleged he was physically assaulting her, drugging her, and forcing her into sex with others. These are the claims the defendants made in text messages, in conversations with the woman they'd recruited to commit murder, and also in court filings. In order to justify what they did next. [8:41] I need to be direct about something. These allegations were never proven. No criminal charges were ever filed against Raul Mena for domestic violence or sexual assault. No law enforcement investigation confirmed the sister's claims in the public record. And what the court record does show is a custody ruling that went against Bauer, and that she had tested positive for drugs during those proceedings. Look, I'm not telling you Mena is a saint. I don't know. I don't know what happened inside that marriage, and neither do you. So what I'm telling you is that the justice system, the one the sisters chose to bypass entirely, had already examined the situation and ruled, and a Louisiana judge had given MENA custody and Bauer supervised visits. And that was the legal reality. But Sandra Grimes was a mother and watching her daughter lose access to her children. And she was dead certain in the way only a parent can be certain that she knew the truth even if the courts didn't see it. [10:09] That certainty would drive everything that follows. It would cross state lines, involve at least five people, and nearly cost a man his life. And the thing about certainty is this. The people who have the most of it are usually the last to question it. [10:33] Bye. Before I go any further, I want you to know who they wanted dead. Raul Mehta was raising three children in Marrow, Louisiana. He was the custodial parent, the one who got up the kids for school, packed their lunches, drove them to activities, helped with homework, and put them to bed at night. He wasn't wealthy, and he wasn't connected. He was a man living in a suburb on the west bank of the Mississippi, doing the quiet, unglamorous, day-in, day-out work of raising three kids on his own. The kind of work that doesn't make the news, because it's not dramatic. We've all been there as parents. It's just constant. He'd later stand in a federal courtroom and describe what Rebecca Murphy's phone call to the FBI had preserved. The birthdays, the Christmases, the school concerts, the ordinary mornings, and waking up his kids every single morning. [11:42] He didn't know any of this was happening, and he didn't know three women in Alabama had hired someone to kill him. He didn't know his home had been photographed room by room, and he didn't know someone had been told to wait for a thunderstorm, to mask the sound of the gun. He was just a father, just going about his life. While 200 miles away in Baldwin County, three sisters were making plans to ensure, he would never wake up again. [12:20] And I need you to remember this man. Remember his mornings, his children, the life he was living without knowing it was under threat. Because what he does later in a federal courtroom is something I've never encountered in 30 years of investigating. And I can't tell you about it yet because we're not there yet, but stick with me. [12:51] According to the federal criminal complaint, the sisters first hired a man. He's unnamed in court records, and it doesn't really matter. But they paid him $10,000 to kill Raul Mena. Ten grand cash for a murder. And then he took the money and vanished. It's tragic when you can't trust criminals. $10,000 gone. No murder, no hitman, just a con artist who recognized desperation when they saw it, and he took the payday. [13:33] Now, think about this moment. The sisters had just been scammed out of $10,000 by a man who promised to commit murder and disappeared with the cash. In any rational calculation, that's the moment you reassess. That's the universe giving you an exit ramp. A clear, unmistakable signal that this path leads nowhere good. And you get a second chance if you listen. You've already committed a federal crime by paying for a murder. And you lost the money. And you have nothing to show for it. They didn't take that exit. Instead, they started looking for someone else, and this time they found someone closer to home. Someone they thought they could control. [14:30] Rebecca Murphy was 36 years old, living in Foley, Alabama, about 20 minutes south of Fairhope. She wasn't a saint. She was a five-time convicted felon, and her record included assault, drug charges, and fraud. The kind of history that closes doors permanently in small towns where Everybody knows your business. She was also struggling with addiction. And that's not speculation. It's what she'd later tell a federal judge under oath. And she was broke. I mean like dead broke. The kind of broke where an unexpected vet bill becomes a life and death crisis. [15:20] Murphy was a former neighbor of Mitzi Smith in the Barnwell area of Fairhope. And that's how she entered the story. Not through some dark web marketplace, not through a professional underworld referral. Just a next-door neighbor who used to live down the street. And Murphy had a dog she loved named Boo Boo. In February 2024, Boo-Boo needed veterinary care that Murphy couldn't afford. And according to court documents and testimony, Judy Owen stepped in and paid the remaining $500 on Murphy's vet bill, allowing her to take Boo-Boo home. 500 bucks. That's the price of entry into this conspiracy. Not $10,000. The amount the first hitman walked away with. But $500, a lot of love, and a sick dog. And then Owen told Murphy, You owe me. Not $500. A human life. [16:41] According to the Hidden Killers podcast, which read directly from court documents, Owen told Murphy she owed her for the payment and demanded she participate in a plan to kill Raul Mena. Before Owen ever approached Murphy, Mitzi Smith had already told Sandra Grimes that her former neighbor would be the perfect one for the job. And according to court records, Smith said Murphy was ideal because she's sneaky. [17:17] I mean, think about that framing for a moment. They didn't see Murphy as a person in crisis. A woman with an addiction trying to do better. A criminal record and a dog she couldn't afford to keep alive and treat. They saw a tool. A five-time felon desperate enough to do what they needed and disposable enough that no one would care if things went wrong. Murphy also had a girlfriend, Jessica Montgomery. Montgomery would later be charged in the conspiracy for purchasing .22 caliber ammunition and accompanying Murphy on at least one trip to Louisiana. According to FBI affidavits, Murphy was a knowing participant and not someone who stumbled into this unaware. [18:17] The recruitment began at a Walmart parking lot. According to FBI records, Owen and Murphy went to the local Walmart to meet with Sandra Grimes, who'd driven over from Niceville, Florida. The three women then drove together to Louisiana. A four-hour trip across the Gulf Coast to show Murphy exactly where Raul Mena lived. They drove past his house Showed her the neighborhood Identified the exits and the best sight lines, Murphy later told investigators she felt like a hostage during the trip That she had no choice but to comply, And FBI Special Agent Jennifer Whitehurst would later testify at trial That Murphy didn't come forward sooner because she honestly felt like her life was in danger. She felt like she had been threatened by the three sisters. [19:28] That drive from Baldwin County to Marrow takes about four hours each way. That's a lot of windshield time to think about whether you're really going to kill someone. According to federal court documents, Murphy made three separate trips to Marrow to scout Mena's home and neighborhood. Three round trips. That's a lot of time spent driving. On one of those trips on March 9, 2024, Grimes texted Murphy photographs of the interior of Mena's house, room by room. Here's the living room. Here's the bedroom. Here are the children's rooms. She had been inside the house, or had someone who'd been inside send her the photos. Grimes also told Murphy to wait for bad weather. She suggested, thinking she was being helpful, that thunderstorms in the Marrow area would be the perfect cover for shooting mena. The noise from the thunder would mask the gunfire. Wait for the storm. Kill the man. Drive home. [20:52] She went further. She provided Murphy with instructions on how to cut the electrical power to Mena's home before entering. I mean, think about the level of planning that represents. Why didn't she just do it herself? This wasn't a crime of passion. This was as premeditated as it gets. It was methodical and detailed, down to the circuit breaker. And the methods they discussed weren't limited to a gun. According to court documents, the conspirators discussed multiple ways to kill Raul Menna. Inject him with heroin. Make his death look like an overdose. Stab him at the door. Shoot him in the heart or face. Run him over with the car. They weren't debating whether to kill him. They were debating the most efficient way to do it. [21:49] Meanwhile, the money kept flowing. Phone records obtained by the FBI show that between March 7th and April 21st, Grimes paid Murphy $1,000 via Cash App. Murphy told investigators the money was intended for killing Mena and to cover travel expenses, hotels, food, gas, for those three trips. And then there was the weapon. [22:19] Mitzi Smith provided a 9mm Phoenix Arms handgun, dropped it off in a box at a location where Murphy could pick it up. Smith also supplied .22 caliber ammunition, and Montgomery purchased additional rounds as backup. So by late March 2024, Murphy had a gun, ammunition, $1,000 via Cash App, photographs of the victim's home, detailed murder instructions and directions to the target's address in Marrow. But she kept stalling. She'd drive to Louisiana and come back without doing it. She told the sisters there was too much daylight, too many cameras. That neighborhood, it was too active. The timing wasn't right. In one trip, she told them she'd arrived to find Mena wasn't home. Another time, she said the area was too busy. Too many people around who might see something. According to the Hidden Killers podcast, Murphy also began looking for someone else to carry out the murder. Trying to find another person to take the job off her hands. To pass the responsibility to someone who might actually go through with it. She didn't find anyone. [23:43] So she kept driving to Louisiana and she kept coming back without pulling the trigger. I've been in a situation where I realized too late that the people around me didn't have my best interests in mind. I was lucky. And Murphy was lucky, and she was brave. Each excuse brought Raoul Mena another day of life, and each excuse pushed Sandra Grimes closer to the edge. [24:21] By late march the frustration boiled over in text messages and these texts are crucial because they show you who these women actually were when the mask came off this isn't interpretation, this isn't characterization you don't need to figure this out these are the defendant's own words read verbatim from court transcripts during the Hidden Killers podcast coverage. Grimes to Murphy. I don't know what to tell you. I want the gun and bullets brought back. If you coming back, please don't tell me no bullshit about the MF. Do what you gotta do. And then this. This has turned into a real shit show. And then Grimes got specific. She stopped talking about the plan and put the method in writing you stab him in the heart at the door or shoot his ass in the heart or face. [25:28] What the fuck can he do, she wrote. That line stays with me. What the fuck can he do? That's a mother and grandmother talking about the father of her grandchildren. A man she decided was better off dead. And in her mind, he was already so powerless, so inconsequential, that killing him was just a logistics problem. On March 22nd, according to court documents, Grimes texted Murphy an ultimatum. If Murphy didn't kill Mena, then I will go and do the shit my damn self. [26:15] And Judy Owen applied her own pressure from the other side. She texted Murphy, reminding her of the money they'd already paid and the debt she still carried. If you not go do nothing, we want our money back. And then, I'm the one who paid for your dog. My friend who works at the vet knows I paid. I want progress or my money. You pick. She ended it with an angry face emoji. A little icing on the cake. A murder contract enforced with an angry face emoji a $500 vet bill leveraged into an obligation to kill a man, and Murphy was caught in the middle of it with a gun she didn't want money she couldn't return and three women who were not going to stop, What she does next will land every single one of them in a federal courtroom. But what the intended victim does in that same courtroom, that's the part of the story you're not going to believe until you hear it. [27:36] I want you to hold something in your mind as we move forward. Three sisters, a mother and two aunts, believed they were protecting children. They believed a man was hurting a daughter and grandchildren, And they were willing to spend tens of thousands of dollars Provide weapons, plan logistics across state lines And pressure a vulnerable woman for months To make that threat disappear, And that vulnerable woman The one they picked because she was sneaky Because she was desperate and because her felony record made her seem disposable. She was the one that said no. Not right away. Not cleanly. But she said it. [28:34] According to court testimony, there was a moment when the conspiracy crossed a line that even Rebecca Murphy, a multiple-time felon, just couldn't follow. During the planning, as Murphy continued to stall and the sisters grew more frustrated, Sandra Grimes expressed something that changed the equation entirely. She told Murphy that she would not be concerned if Mena died in front of his children, her own grandchildren, I mean, let that register for a moment. A grandmother. Three children she claimed to be protecting. And she was willing to let those same children watch their father be assassinated in front of them? In their own home? [29:41] That's the moment this story pivots. not because Murphy had been looking for an exit. The records suggest that she had just been stalling for weeks already, but because the conspiracy had revealed what it actually was. It was never about protecting children. It was about eliminating a man that three women had decided didn't deserve to live. [30:11] Murphy had those five felony convictions, and she'd accepted money for this. She'd taken the gun. She'd driven to Louisiana three times. She'd been threatened by every measure the legal system uses to assess character. She was the last person you'd expect to draw a moral line. But damn it, she drew one. And she drew it at the kids. FBI Special Agent Whitehurst would later testify that Murphy told agents she didn't come forward sooner because she feared for her own life. All right, I get it. That the three sisters had threatened her. Yeah, seems like that's what happened. And she was afraid of what they'd do if she backed out. But she was more afraid of what would happen if she didn't. [31:16] In early May 2024, Rebecca Murphy contacted the Federal Bureau of Investigation. She didn't call through a lawyer. She didn't negotiate terms first. According to the sentencing transcript, she walked in and told them everything. She turned over the 9mm Phoenix Arms handgun. She turned over her phones, which contained the text messages, the Cash App records, and the photographs of Mena's home. She gave FBI Special Agent Jennifer Whitehurst a comprehensive account of the conspiracy, the sisters' identities, the money exchanged, the weapons, the intended victim, the trips to Louisiana, and the murder methods they'd discussed. She gave them everything. [32:13] According to AUSA Jessica Terrell's own words at the sentencing hearing, quote, we wouldn't have a case if it wasn't for her. She came forward and she turned over the gun, she gave over her phones, and that's what kick-started everything. [32:34] The FBI moved quickly. On May 10, 2024, federal agents arrested the three sisters. Sandra Grimes was in Niceville, Florida Judy Owen in Silver Hill, Alabama and Mitzi Smith in Fairhope Three women taken into custody in three different locations all on the same day, The conspiracy they'd spent months building together collapsed in a single morning He's up, he's up, Just two weeks later on May 24th Murphy was arrested and charged as well, conspiracy to commit murder for hire and felon in possession of a firearm. Because doing the right thing didn't erase what she'd done. She'd agreed to the conspiracy. She'd taken the money. She'd held the gun. She'd driven to Louisiana three times to scout the victim's house. The law doesn't give you a pass for changing your mind, even if that change of mind saves a life. Murphy faced a potential sentence of up to 25 years. [33:51] Jessica Montgomery, her girlfriend, was also arrested and charged with conspiracy and ammunition purchase. Five defendants won conspiracy, and the woman who broke it open was now a defendant herself. The question wasn't just what would happen to the sisters. It was whether the system would recognize that Murphy's decision to stop the murder and report it to the FBI was worth something. Or whether she'd be punished the same as the people she turned in. Let me stop here for a moment. I've investigated bad people for 30 years, mostly financial predators, the kind who build elaborate systems to take what isn't theirs. And one of the things that still surprises me is how often the person everyone overlooks is the one who does the hardest thing. The sisters had resources. They had each other. They had the conviction that they were righteous. Rebecca Murphy had a sick dog, five felony convictions, and a $500 debt she couldn't pay. And she's the one who picked up the phone to the FBI. [35:17] I've seen this pattern before. People with everything to protect will rationalize anything. People with nothing left to lose sometimes find the clearest view of right and wrong. It's not always the case, but when it happens, it's worth paying attention to. Because here's the uncomfortable truth this case forces you to sit with. Certainty is dangerous. Not the kind of certainty that comes from evidence. The kind that comes from emotion. From family love. From the absolute belief that you know what's happening to your daughter, even when every court that's examined the facts say otherwise. I've covered cases like this before on this show If you listen to my episode, The Wrong Target You've seen this pattern, People make decisions about what they want to do to others Based on feelings. [36:25] And not facts And lives get destroyed, Not over truth, but over what someone felt was the truth, The courts looked at the evidence in the custody case They ruled the sisters didn't accept it And instead of trusting the process, they decided to kill a man, And that kind of certainty can make good people do terrible, terrible things. [37:00] In the fall of 2024, the plea deals started coming in Sandra Grimes pleaded guilty in October to conspiracy to commit murder for hire and transfer a firearm in furtherance of a felony, Rebecca Murphy pled guilty in September to conspiracy and felon in possession as part of her agreement she'd testify against the others, Jessica Montgomery also pleaded guilty but Judy Owen and Mitzi Smith refused to deal They went to trial. [37:39] January 2025 Federal Courtroom, Mobile, Alabama. [37:48] The Trial of Judy Owen and Mitzi Smith FBI Special Agent Jennifer Whitehurst took the stand and laid out the government's case. The informant's report, the gun, the phones, the cash app records, the text messages. She testified that Murphy had told the FBI she felt like her life was in danger and that she'd been threatened by the three sisters. [38:16] The defense fought back. From the moment the arrests went public, the strategy was clear. Attack Murphy's credibility. Smith's attorney, Dom Soto, had told NBC15 back in May. There's three sisters that are being tied together by the allegations made by a person who carries a lot of baggage as far as prior criminal history. He'd also speculated about Murphy's motives. I don't know what made this informant turn into a good citizen, but probably she's working some case off or something. I don't know. I'm just guessing. That framing carried into the courtroom. Fox 10's Brendan Kirby reported from outside the courthouse that lawyers for Owen and Smith... They sought to undermine Murphy's credibility and depicted her as unstable and a drug dealer and a drug user whose word can't be trusted. And then Rebecca Murphy herself took the witness stand and testified against the women who'd recruited her. [39:26] She told the jury everything. Now Mitzi Smith introduced her to Sandra Grimes and said she'd be perfect for the plan. How Owen paid her vet bill and then told her she owed him a life for it. How they drove her to Louisiana and showed her exactly where to find Raul Mena. How they discussed heroin overdoses and thunderstorm coverings and cutting the power to his house. Colin Fitzpatrick, Murphy's defense attorney, would later tell the judge that Murphy gave it to him on a silver platter, and then tied it up with a nice bow in trial. He said the defense attorney for Owen and Smith were really doing their best, but there wasn't anything to do. She was as excellent a witness as you could get and brought the case home and put those people away. [40:28] On January 10th, 2025, the jury returned its verdict. Judy Owen, guilty on all accounts. Conspiracy to commit murder for hire Transfer of a firearm in furtherance of a felony Mitzi Smith guilty on all counts, Fox 10's Brendan Kirby was in the courtroom that day and reported what happened next. They were stoic as they listened to the verdicts being read, but in the hallway outside the courtroom, they broke down and shared a tearful embrace. Owen's attorney, Barry Dumas, spoke to reporters outside. Well, obviously, the sister, Sandra Grimes, who had pled early, was the one with the axe to grind, would be victim of the conspiracy. I think my client and Mr. Soto's client were on the periphery of her scheming. On the periphery. That's one way to describe paying a vet bill and then demanding a murder in return. The woman they'd recruited because she was sneaky had just put them both away. [41:52] But this story isn't over, because in 17 days, Rebecca Murphy will stand in that same courtroom for her own sentencing. And what happens there? I need you to stay with me for this, because it will be unlike anything I've ever seen in a federal court transcript. If you're listening to this right now and thinking this is a story more people need to hear, you're right. No other podcast has covered this case this way. So please share this episode with someone. Send them the link. Forward them the episode link. Post it. Word of mouth is how stories like this find the people that want and need to hear it. [42:43] Baldwin County woman was supposed to serve almost eight years in prison for a murder-for-hire plot. Then the judge changed his mind after hearing from the victim. That Fox 10 headline barely scratches the surface of what happened in that courtroom. January 27th, 2025, 17 days after the guilty verdict against Owen and Smith. Courtroom 4A, United States Courthouse, Mobile, Alabama. Chief United States District Judge. Beaverstock presiding. [43:18] Rebecca Murphy stood for sentencing. This was the moment the system would decide what her choices were worth. All of them. The bad ones and the good ones. The guidelines were brutal. Base offense level 33. Three, four-level enhancement because the offense involved payment for murder. Criminal history, Category 5, the second highest level. Reflecting 12 criminal history points across five prior felonies. The advisory guideline was 235 to 293 months. That's nearly 20 to 25 years in federal prison. For a woman who was 36 years old, that guideline range meant she could be in her late 50s or early 60s before she ever saw outside of a prison wall. [44:22] But the government had filed a 5K motion, a formal request to reduce Murphy's sentence based on what was called substantial assistance to the prosecution. This is the government's way of telling a judge, hey, this defendant gave us something valuable. Assistant U.S. Attorney Jessica Terrell told Judge Beaverstock directly, quote, Hey, we wouldn't have a case if it wasn't for her. The government recommended a 50% reduction from the guideline range. That's pretty damn significant. It's also the maximum the U.S. Attorney's Office would recommend under their internal policy. [45:10] Murphy's own defense attorney, Colin Fitzpatrick, went further. He told the judge this wasn't just a good case for a 50% reduction. This was the ultimate case, he said. I think that if there wasn't an office policy to cap it at 50%, that these particular prosecutors would have recommended lower. And then Fitzpatrick did something unusual. He told the judge he had not filed a sentencing memo. In federal court, a sentencing memo is where the defense attorney lays out everything. The client's childhood trauma, the mental illness, the abuse, the neglect, the addiction. It's the document that's supposed to make the judge feel for your client. And Fitzpatrick always files one, and the judge knew that. But not this time, because Fitzpatrick told the court. It's not because Ms. Murphy hasn't had a lot of bad stuff happen in her life. I mean, all kinds of mental illness and abuse and neglect and all the juicy stuff that goes in mitigation. But she still did the right thing. And the judge's response was two words. She did. [46:40] He didn't need the memo the moral act spoke for itself, Fitzpatrick also warned the court about what a harsh sentence would signal that punishing Murphy severely, would send a message to the community that if you are in that kind of situation you don't go to the police because you'll get in trouble too, And then Murphy spoke. And what she said wasn't polished. It wasn't prepared. The attorney didn't write it. It was raw. [47:21] She said, the only thing I'm sorry for is how this turned out. I'm just sorry that I didn't come forward a lot sooner and that I let my addiction take control. And then she apologized to Mena. She asked the court to tell him she was sorry for everything he had been through. And then she said something that would become one of the most human moments in this entire case. [47:51] I just want to go home to Boo Boo. I just want to go home to my dog, take care of my mama, stay off drugs and live a productive life. That's it. That's what she wanted. Her dog, her mother, a clean life. The same thing most people take for granted. Stated in a federal courtroom by a woman facing decades in prison. Judge Beaverstock granted the 50% reduction and went 10% further. He sentenced Murphy to 94 months, 7 years and 10 months, down from a potential 293 months was a massive reduction. He told her your conduct can't go unpunished, of course. But he also told her he believed that she could still find a different path. Don't count your time, he said. Make your time count. That was supposed to be it. Sentence imposed, hearing over, and then a recess called. [49:03] When the court reconvened after a brief recess, AUSA Terrell informed the judge that the victim had arrived. Raul Mena had been driving to the courthouse from Louisiana and got caught in traffic and rain, and he'd missed the entire sentencing hearing. But he was here now, and he wanted to speak. And the judge allowed it. Mena was sworn in. He took a seat at the witness stand In the same courtroom Where Murphy had been sentenced Just minutes earlier, And what happened next Is documented in 22 pages Of federal court transcript Taken down word for word By court reporter Melanie Wilkins Every pause recorded Every emotion captured In the flat, precise language Of a court transcript that somehow still manages to convey something extraordinary. Raul Mena looked at Rebecca Murphy and said this. [50:18] Thank you for saving my life. Thank you. Thank you for letting me wake up with my kids every morning to celebrate their birthdays, their Christmases, their accomplishments. Thank you for sparing them for not having to feel the pain of losing their dad. [50:39] A man standing in a federal courtroom thanking the woman who was hired to kill him. Thanking her for choosing not to. I've investigated criminal cases and other cases for three decades, and I've never encountered a moment like this in any court record. I can never repay you for that, he said. I just ask this court to give you mercy because I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you standing before them. And Murphy said, I'm so sorry. me. And Manner replied, I accept your apologies. [51:21] And then he kept going, because Raul Mena had not driven four hours through traffic and weather to say thank you and leave. He turned to the judge. He said, my kids have been through a lot. A lot in the last six years. And just the thought of, I mean, they already lost their mother. And not having a father? It would have been a lifetime of pain. They already lost their mother. Those five words change everything you've heard in this episode. The three sisters claim they were protecting children from a dangerous father. The court had already ruled otherwise. The ones Sandra Grimes said she was fighting for had already lost their mother through that custody ruling. If the murder plot had succeeded, three kids who'd already lost one parent would have lost the other. The sisters weren't saving those children. They were one trigger pull from orphaning them. And then Mena revealed something the court hadn't heard. He said, She saved me not once, but twice. Y'all don't know about the second time. [52:43] He told the judge he'd been traveling to South Carolina with his daughters to visit their mother for Mother's Day. Right around the time the sisters were arrested, he believed that if Murphy hadn't turned them in, he wouldn't have made it back alive. He said, I wouldn't have made it back because my life was still in danger. [53:06] But she turned them in, and I was able to walk out of South Carolina safe, all because of her. because just because she said no, it wasn't over for them. They still had a contingency plan. A contingency plan? Even after Murphy stalled? Even after she refused? The sisters had another way to get it done? The judge turned to the prosecutor. He wanted to know, is this true? Was there a second attempt? [53:42] AUSA Terrell's response was remarkable in its honesty. She told the judge. She wouldn't feel comfortable calling it a second attempt, but she added, It also could be that she had a more nefarious plan. How could he not think that after listening through this trial? Even the federal prosecutor acknowledged that after everything the jury had heard, Mena had every reason to believe the sisters wouldn't have stopped. Murphy's attorney, Fitzpatrick, made an oral motion to reconsider the sentence. And the transcript records say what happened next. Judge, six and a half years for this is horseshit. Throw me in contempt if you want, but nobody in this courtroom disagrees with that. Judge Beaverstock's response, well, that's a little salty, Mr. Fitzpatrick. And then, I'm not disagreeing with you. [54:56] The judge spoke directly to Murphy. I recognize that a reduction is appropriate beyond what was recommended by the United States. Your conduct can't go unpunished, of course, but I think the appropriate sentence in your case is 60 months. 60 months, five years, down from 94, down from a guideline range that started up around 290 months. You know, this tells me that you do have a moral compass. [55:35] On May 5th, 2025, almost exactly one year after the arrests, Judge Beaverstock sentenced the remaining defendants. Judy Owen, the eldest sister, the one who'd paid the vet bill and told Murphy she owed a life for it. The one convicted of conspiracy, firearm transfer, and murder for hire, received 120 months in federal prison. Ten years. The harshest sentence of any defendant in the case. Sandra Grimes, the mother who'd orchestrated the entire conspiracy, who texted the explicit murder instructions, who was willing to let her grandchildren witness their father's death, received 70 months, five years and 10 months, because she pleaded guilty rather than going to trial. Her sentence was substantially lower than Owen's, despite being, by most accounts, the driving force behind the plot. [56:42] Jessica Montgomery, Murphy's girlfriend, who purchased ammunition and accompanied Murphy to Louisiana, received 60 months the same sentence as Murphy. And Mitzi Smith, the neighbor who'd recruited Murphy, the one who told Grimes that Murphy would be perfect because she's sneaky, the one who provided the 9mm Phoenix Arms handgun, convicted by a jury on all three counts, including murder for hire. She received time served and walked out of that courtroom a free woman. When Smith was first arrested, her attorney, Dom Soto, had described her to NBC15 this way. She's a stay-at-home mom, a cancer survivor. She takes care of eight children, six of them are her grandchildren. That may well be true. And Judge Beaverstock may have considered factors the public will never see. But the optics are stark. Let me put that in perspective. The woman who provided the gun and recruited the assassin walked free. The woman who refused to use the gun and reported the conspiracy to the FBI will serve five years in federal prison. [58:09] I need to sit with this sentencing for a moment. I mean, Mitzi Smith, convicted by a jury of conspiracy to commit murder for hire, firearm transfer and furtherance of a felony and murder for hire, walked free on time served. Rebecca Murphy, the woman who stopped the murder and delivered the case to the FBI, serves 60 months. Same sentence as Jessica Montgomery, who purchased ammunition for the plot. I'm not a judge And I don't have access to everything Judge Beaverstock considered Pre-sentencing reports Containing information the public never sees There may be compelling reasons For that disparity I don't know, But as someone who's investigated Institutional decisions for 30 years I can tell you this, The message That sentence sends Matters beyond the courtroom, Because Fitzpatrick was right If this person who stops the murder And hands the FBI the case on a silver platter Still serves more time Than the person who provided the murder weapon, What does that tell the next Rebecca Murphy? The next person caught in something terrible Who's thinking about picking up the phone. [59:32] That's worth thinking about. [59:42] So how does a five-time convicted felon end up being the only person who does the right thing? I've been sitting here with this case for a while now, and I don't think the answer is complicated. Rebecca Murphy wasn't necessarily a good person who made bad choices. She wasn't a bad person who found redemption. She was a person, flawed, struggling, desperate, who arrived at a moment where the choice was clear. Three sisters had every advantage Murphy didn't. Family, resources, each other. And their certainty, their absolute conviction that they were protecting children, led them to plan a man's murder, recruit a vulnerable woman to carry it out, and pressure her for months when she hesitated. Murphy had a sick dog she couldn't afford, and a criminal record that should have made her exactly what they expected. [1:00:53] And she wasn't. The person I keep coming back to in this case is Rebecca Murphy, a woman whose life, the addiction, the felony, the poverty, could have led her to pull the trigger. Everything in her history said she would. And the sisters were counting on it. And the only reason she was in that car, driving to Louisiana with a gun she didn't want, was because someone paid a $500 vet bill for a dog named Boo-Boo. That's the hinge. A woman's love for her dog turned into a weapon against her. [1:01:40] The judge could have let her walk. There's no statutory minimum for a conspiracy to commit murder for hire when no one dies. With the 5K motion, Judge Beaverstock had the authority to sentence Murphy to probation or time served. He chose 60 months, and he told her, Your conduct cannot go unpunished. I got to be honest with you. I agree with Fitzpatrick. I think the lesson Murphy had already learned, the one that made her pick up the phone and call the FBI, the one that put her on a witness stand against the people who terrified her, that lesson would have continued her on a better path. 60 months in federal prison for the person who stopped a murder and handed the government its entire case. So I think Fitzpatrick had it right in that courtroom. [1:02:48] As of this recording, Rebecca Murphy is serving that sentence in federal prison. The woman who stopped the murder, the woman, the victim himself, asked the court to show mercy. The hero of this story is behind bars, And the woman who handed her the gun walked free on time served. I don't know. It just doesn't always make sense. [1:03:19] Raul Mena is alive today because of what Murphy did. His children, who had already lost their mother, still have their father. And... [1:03:44] The hero was the felon. Sometimes the moral compass shows up in the last place you'd think to look. Well, that's going to do it for this episode of True Crime Cases You Haven't Heard. I'm Steve Rode, and if this story stayed with you, the best thing you can do is share it. Don't forget to subscribe to the website emails so you get the court case documents whenever an episode drops. Go to truecrimeunheard.com. All right, tell a friend, leave a review, subscribe, follow wherever you're listening. Every review, every share helps me, helps this podcast, And it helps find the people who need to hear these stories. Until next time, stay curious, stay safe, stay subscribed, and stay awesome. [1:05:02] Yeah. See ya.