The Hat Man Killer

November 4, 2024

In this episode, Payton and Garrett delve into the case of Kassandra Cantrell. As police investigate her disappearance, they uncover a trove of digital evidence, all pointing to a mysterious figure known as "The Hat Man."

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AUDIO TRANSCRIPT

You're listening to an Oh No Media podcast.

Hey everyone, welcome back to the podcast! This is Murder with My Husband.

I'm Payton Moreland.

And I'm Garrett Moreland.

He's the husband.

I'm the husband.

Hey everybody, thank you for being here. Thank you for supporting us, thank you for listening, and thank you for subscribing. If you don’t follow the show, please follow the show on Apple, Spotify, or wherever you’re listening—it makes a big difference!

If you want bonus content, we have Patreon, Apple subscriptions, and Spotify subscriptions. You can get two bonus episodes a month and ad-free content.

We also had to get a new soundboard because...

Wait, is it my 10 seconds?

I don’t know. I guess so. I was just kind of talking.

Okay, you go for it.

We had to get a new soundboard because—well, they might not know what a soundboard is. Oh, if you check out our stories or follow us on social media, you’ll see Garrett (me) spilled a Dutch Bros coffee all over our soundboard.

Basically, it’s just a very expensive piece of equipment we use to record. Our headphones plug into it, our voices go through it—it captures our entire audio. There are other ways to record, but this setup is simple for us. Kind of plug-and-play.

Anyway, we spilled on it. We thought it would still work. We came down to record today, but everything was buzzing and going crazy.

But, to be honest, we have extras of these.

One, because we’re smart and plan ahead.

And two, Garrett has this little habit of sometimes buying multiple things at once.

But guess what? It always pays off. Always!

We definitely needed those five extra pairs of devil horns he ordered for our Halloween costumes.

One day, I promise, we’re going to need those.

Anyway, the new soundboard is working great. You can hear us, everything is good.

I think it’s important to note that when we spilled on it, it happened in the middle of an episode. We kept recording, and the episode worked fine. So, we thought it’d be fine today too—but it wasn’t.

It wasn’t.

That’s kind of what I’ve got for my 10 seconds. Oh, and I probably shouldn’t admit this, but the next day I spilled again—on myself, in the car.

I don’t know, man. Dutch Bros is just not liking me recently. I like it, but it doesn’t like me. That’s okay.

Oh, and Dutch Bros actually commented on our video! They did, on Instagram. Go check it out.

And tell them we need a collab.

Yes, we need a sponsor.

Or a collab! Sticker, something.

At this point, they owe us a new soundboard.

Yes, they definitely owe us a new soundboard.

A Dutch Bros soundboard—that’s what we need.

That’s what I’ve got for my 10 seconds this week. I hope everyone is doing amazing. I hope everyone has a great week.

On that note, let’s hop into today’s episode.

Our sources for this episode are:

• oxygen.com

• people.com

• cbsnews.com

• fox13seattle.com

• thenewstribune.com

• kiro7.com

• king5.com

• Pierce County Sheriff’s Department Facebook page

All right, so sometimes I stop and think about how far technology has come in just my lifetime.

To think that many of us were part of a generation where social media, online shopping, and even cell phones weren’t part of our daily lives—and now they are!

It's pretty mind-blowing, and it makes me wonder: what will we see in the rest of our lifetime that we haven’t even conceived of yet? What will our kids and grandkids be using on a day-to-day basis? Will it be an iPhone? Will it be Instagram?

I think about this a lot—not just in the context of my own life but also in the context of true crime. There have been so many cases we’ve covered where I stop and think, If there was just a security camera on that street corner at the time, maybe we’d know who Jack the Ripper was. Or, If O.J. Simpson had GPS on his cell phone, would he be in jail?

Point being, a lot of today’s cases would run cold if it weren’t for the technology we have now. Which is why today’s story proves that if you’re going to commit a murder in this day and age, technology is probably going to be your worst enemy.

I think about this quite a bit—what technology will look like in the next 10, 15, or 20 years. I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out. Will we still be doing a podcast? Stay tuned.

Don’t say that.

So, right now, we are going to travel northwest to the state of Washington. This is a place we actually don’t cover too often on this show. We’re going to a port city just south of Seattle known as Tacoma.

In 2020, this is where 33-year-old Cassandra Cantrell called home. She had pretty much lived here her entire life. Cassandra never ventured far from the nest. She was incredibly close with her family, still living with her mother, Marie Smith, who she helped take care of. She also had a twin brother named Rob, with whom she shared a really special bond.

Growing up, Cassandra and Rob were thick as thieves. They were best friends who would stay up late into the night, despite their mother’s insistence that they had school the next morning. They wanted to stay up and watch scary movies on the couch. Rob was always amazed at how his sister Cassandra seemed to never be shaken by these scary movies.

Maybe it was her light, free spirit—the fact that she always saw the good and humor in things. In fact, Cassandra turned this passion for movies into her own little hobby. She and Rob began collecting movie memorabilia with dreams of one day opening up a collectible shop, which is honestly such a fun dream to have.

I can’t watch scary movies, by the way.

As Cassandra reached her teens, she also discovered an interest in being in movies—or at least in acting. She joined a local theater company and really started to grow into her own skin. She found a group of people who were quirky, outgoing, and shared a lot of the same interests as she did.

Cassandra gained a lot of confidence during her time in theater as a teenager. Her friends said she became the kind of person who didn’t care what others thought about her—whether she was too loud or too opinionated. Cassandra was unapologetically herself because she accepted herself, and she wasn’t afraid to wear that on her sleeve.

Quite literally, actually—Cassandra got a tattoo that summed up her life motto pretty efficiently. It was a quote from playwright George Bernard Shaw that read: "We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing."

The only place Cassandra's friends said she was a bit more reserved was when it came to dating. She’d had a boyfriend or two here and there and had used dating apps in the past, but nothing was ever that serious—at least, not that Cassandra’s friends or family were aware of.

On the morning of August 25, 2020—Cassandra, now in her 30s—likely thought it would be a normal day. She and her mother, Marie, lived together, and that morning, the two chatted before Marie headed out for work. Cassandra mentioned that she had a shopping trip planned for the afternoon and that the next day, she was planning to meet up with her friend, Alexandra.

Around 8:25 a.m., Cassandra left the house in her white Mazda. When Marie returned home later that day, Cassandra hadn’t yet come back. Marie noticed something unusual: Cassandra had used her master bathroom to get ready, leaving her makeup scattered across the counter. It seemed as though Cassandra had been preparing to meet someone important, which wasn’t typical for her.

Marie tried calling Cassandra a few times that evening but didn’t hear back. She wasn’t immediately panicked—after all, Cassandra was a 33-year-old woman with her own life.

However, by the next day, August 26, Cassandra’s friend Alexandra was also getting concerned. Alexandra had been texting Cassandra to let her know she was running late for their planned meetup, but Cassandra didn’t respond. When Alexandra tried calling her repeatedly, she discovered Cassandra’s voicemail was full. (Honestly, sometimes my voicemail box is full too. Happens when you’re just so popular, right?)

As the day went on, Alexandra’s worry grew. The following morning, August 27, things took a turn for the worse. Alexandra woke up to a series of panicked texts from Cassandra’s mom, Marie, asking if Cassandra was with her. Marie explained that Cassandra hadn’t been home for two nights now, and she couldn’t get in touch with her.

That’s when Alexandra called Marie to explain that not only had Cassandra not spent the night at her place, but she also never showed up for their plans. This was completely out of character for Cassandra.

Together, they decided to call the police.

Of course, in those first few hours, they held out hope for the best. Maybe Cassandra had lost her phone, her car had broken down, or she was somewhere safe but unable to contact anyone. They considered every possible scenario that could explain her absence.

But police started to piece together the details. It had now been a few days since anyone had seen Cassandra. A neighbor’s security camera captured her leaving her home in her car around 8:30 a.m. on August 25—but there was no footage of her returning.

It's so interesting—and I feel like we’re in a day and age where if you don’t have your phone with you, it’s a little weird. And if you don’t answer for, honestly, like two days, your location is turned off, and people can’t see where you are—something’s going on.

Especially for a 33-year-old woman who isn’t known to spend nights away from home. She lives at home, she’s consistent, and this is definitely worrisome.

Police begin speaking with Cassandra’s family and friends. When they talk to her twin brother, Rob, they learn he’s especially distressed—not only because his sister is missing but because they had an argument just before she disappeared.

I’m not sure what the fight was about, but I know it was still ongoing the morning she left and never came back. Cassandra texted Rob before she left the house, asking if she could come by later to clear the air. Still feeling upset from their argument, Rob never replied to her.

Now, I need to state: Rob is not a person of interest in this case. However, this situation creates a problem. If Rob had replied to Cassandra, he might have known what else was on her agenda that day or been the last person to talk to her. This could have provided a timeline for her case. Since that didn’t happen, no one knows for sure where Cassandra drove off to that morning. All she told her mom was that she planned to go shopping, leaving little for police to go on.

But on August 28—three days after Cassandra was last seen—police get their first major clue.

Cassandra’s car is found parked downtown on East 25th Street near the Tacoma Dome, an event venue. Nothing about the car itself seems unusual—there’s no damage, no blood. The weird part is that this isn’t a place Cassandra would normally go, let alone park her car and leave it, according to her mother.

Even stranger, there’s no sign of Cassandra inside. Her car is abandoned, with no purse, cell phone, or other clues to indicate where she might have gone.

Police initially think this is just another dead end. But they decide to focus on what’s missing—the lack of clues. This case happened in 2020, during the height of the pandemic. Everyone was glued to their cell phones.

That’s a good point—I didn’t even think about that.

Exactly. No one was really outside. Everyone was inside, ordering DoorDash, Instacart, hoarding toilet paper—you know the vibe.

So, police order an emergency trace on Cassandra’s cell phone to find its last known location.

And what they discover is definitely not what you’d expect.

Cassandra’s phone last pinged off two towers near the Puget Sound. When police triangulate the signal, they determine her phone was most likely on the shores of Point Defiance Park.

Wait, isn’t that far from where they are?

Not really. It’s within a 100-meter stretch of water.

That’s not good if that’s where her phone last pinged.

No, it’s definitely not.

So, police head to Point Defiance Park to search.

Their first instinct is that someone probably threw Cassandra’s cell phone into the Sound, which is what they call this body of water. Now they have to decide: is it worth bringing in a diving team to look for the phone, or should they focus on searching for a body first? After all, they don’t even know for sure if the phone is in the water—this is just where it pinged the towers last.

Even if it is in the water, finding it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. But given that they have no clues to go on and a woman’s life may be on the line, they decide it’s definitely worth it.

Thankfully, it’s low tide when they arrive, which helps a bit, but it’s still a long shot. One of the detectives comes up with a smart idea. He suggests they throw stones into the water from the dock to estimate how far someone could have tossed the phone. The plan is to focus their search in that area.

It’s old-school detective work, but honestly, it’s pretty clever. The logic is sound—after all, it’s probably not a professional baseball player who threw it. Most likely, it’s just some average or below-average person. Probably a loser.

What?

Oh, I was saying whoever did this is probably a loser, like whoever killed her.

Oh! I thought you were talking about the police throwing the rocks.

No, no, the person who threw the phone. Sorry for the confusion.

Got it. And honestly, same—total loser.

Anyway, it turns out the detective is not a loser. He’s actually super smart. Divers enter the water and begin dragging nets along the bottom of the Sound. Amazingly, after only about an hour of searching, they pull up a phone with a glitter case—and it’s Cassandra’s.

Police send the phone to a specialist for processing. Meanwhile, Cassandra’s mom, Marie, is doing some sleuthing of her own. She goes through Cassandra’s phone bills and discovers a mysterious number that keeps showing up. Cassandra had been calling and texting this number for months.

Most importantly, it was the last number Cassandra had contacted before her disappearance on the morning of August 25. This is a major clue.

When police trace the number, they find it belongs to a 37-year-old man named Colin Dudley.

It turns out Colin and Cassandra had known each other for years. They first met in 2006, when Cassandra was just 18, through the local theater group she participated in as a teenager. They had both been in a production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show and hit it off.

At first, they dated briefly—pretty casually—but Colin ended things after just a few short months.

From what I can tell, this relationship with Colin might have been one of the closest things Cassandra had to a serious relationship. Even into her 30s, she kept thinking about him. In 2020, when the pandemic hit, a friend mentioned that Cassandra likely got lonely and decided to reach out to Colin to reconnect.

However, Colin’s version of events is very different.

When police show up at Colin’s doorstep, they explain that Cassandra is missing. They inform him that they’ve reviewed her phone records and see that the two of them had been texting and calling each other quite a lot. Naturally, they want to know how he knows her. They also point out that he was the last person she communicated with over the phone.

Colin, however, claims he hasn’t seen or spoken to Cassandra in years. He admits to running into her at a mall once, but other than that, he insists they’d had zero contact. On the day Cassandra disappeared, he says he was at home doing spring cleaning, putting gas in his truck, taking trash to a dumpster, getting his bike fixed, and making a Costco run. He describes his day as pretty uneventful.

What Colin doesn’t know is that police have Cassandra’s cell phone data, which places her at his house on the morning she disappeared. Despite his claim of no recent contact with her, the data clearly shows otherwise.

It’s baffling. You’d think by now people would understand that phone data can easily disprove lies, but it’s almost like instinct kicks in. If you’ve committed a crime, the natural response seems to be to lie.

Colin, notably, has no criminal history and a squeaky-clean record. The police take that into account, but his lying about seeing and talking to Cassandra raises serious red flags. This likely played a role in the police obtaining a search warrant for Colin’s cell phone, which they seized that same day.

The contents of his phone reveal even more evidence that Colin knew Cassandra better than he admitted. For starters, Cassandra’s number isn’t saved under her name in Colin’s phone. Instead, she’s listed as “Velma”—a clear reference to the Scooby-Doo character.

This is the first red flag.

When analysts compare Colin’s phone records with Cassandra’s, they notice that Colin has deleted some of their text messages, including ones from the morning Cassandra disappeared.

One of the texts Cassandra sent said, “I’m a bit early, is that okay?”

Colin replied, “Yep, come on down.”

Those messages had been deleted from Colin’s phone, but they were recoverable. After that exchange, Cassandra’s phone remained at Colin’s house for several hours. Eventually, her phone ended up in the Puget Sound.

It’s surprising that some people still don’t realize deleted messages can often be recovered. Deleting a text may hide it from prying eyes—like a friend or significant other—but it doesn’t mean it’s truly gone.

It’s also worth noting that there are two possible reasons Colin might have deleted these messages.

One, he could have done something to Cassandra and didn’t want proof that she was with him.

Two, Colin had been living with his girlfriend for years. So, it's a woman named Rebecca Fiser. Oh no. Suddenly, Velma makes a little sense because, of course, he's not going to say her contact is Cassandra. As does the lying about when he last saw Cassandra. But police don't think that's quite enough to pin a murder on him—not yet.

However, they have an idea of what to do next. Remember how I told you the police found Cassandra's car near the Tacoma Dome? Well, there happens to be a train that runs right along the street next to where her vehicle was parked. And those trains, as well as the train stations, have cameras.

Police get all of the footage from August 25th to see if they can spot when her car arrived and who might have parked it there. They get lucky because, on tape from 11:50 a.m. that morning, they spot a man getting out of the driver's side of Cassandra's car. It's clearly not her, and he walks away.

It's pretty hard to make out the guy's identity, though, because he's wearing all black: black shoes, a black T-shirt, black pants, a black-rimmed hat—it sounds like you, babe—and a mask. Obviously, it’s the pandemic—2020—and blue surgical gloves, which, yeah, people also wore during the pandemic. So it might not seem that weird in public. But, guess what? It’s also pretty convenient for a killer to have a mask and surgical gloves.

The footage continues. The guy crosses the street over to the train stop and actually takes a seat on a bench there for about four minutes, almost like he's catching his breath. He looks a little exhausted, like he’s composing himself. After waiting on the bench for four minutes, he gets up, keeps walking, and is captured on surveillance footage again in another parking garage just down the street. He walks into the garage, gets into a truck, and exits the parking garage sometime before 12:30 p.m.

This is clearly the person of interest—100%. But the next step is identifying who this person is, which ends up being pretty easy for police. Not only does this person have a familiar build, but they're also wearing that black hat. It's a fedora, to be specific. And Colin Dudley? Well, he had a nickname. He liked to be called "The Hatman."

Why?

Nothing—I’m not going to say anything. Why was he wearing that? Mainly because one of his favorite movies was A Clockwork Orange. It's a dystopian Stanley Kubrick film about a gang that goes on a violent crime spree. But let me just say—if that hat wasn’t a dead giveaway, the plates on Colin's truck would have done the trick.

This was his own truck that he was driving out, and the plates matched. So, I mean, it's open and shut. Officers get a clear view from the footage, and once they run the plates, the truck is registered to Colin.

Now, here’s where it gets even worse. Colin seemed to have Cassandra’s phone on him this entire time.

Oh my God.

From that parking garage, police realize the phone moved to the Puget Sound, to Owen Beach, where it last pinged at 12:45 p.m.

Why? Is it because he had a girlfriend? Like, why did he do this?

Motive, right? I mean, you just answered my next question. Obviously, police know Colin Dudley was the one to get rid of the cell phone. They had their guy.

But why? Yeah, what did he do to her—and why?

About a month before Cassandra disappeared, she pulled her friend Alexandra aside and told her a secret. She said that she had just taken a pregnancy test, and it was positive.

The day after Cassandra disappeared, on August 26th, Alexandra was supposed to meet Cassandra—remember, for their little hangout? Cassandra never showed. They were actually going to an ultrasound appointment together. That’s where Alexandra was supposed to meet her. This was something Cassandra definitely wouldn’t have wanted to miss, which is why it was so alarming.

Cassandra had also told her mother about the pregnancy that July. But when her mom asked who the father was, Cassandra said, "It was a one-night stand. I met him on a dating app."

Oh, so she was pregnant?

Yes. Cassandra was like, "I don’t care, though, Mom. I’m excited to be a mother. I’m more than happy to do it on my own. I don’t care that it was a one-night stand." She was already thinking of baby names and assembling her online baby registry.

There was just one problem: she wasn’t being honest about who the father was. It was actually Colin Dudley—her high school boyfriend, who now had a live-in girlfriend.

Alexandra knew the truth because Cassandra told her everything. She confided that it was Colin's baby. She also shared that she and Colin had started seeing each other again around February. Colin would sneak off from his girlfriend, Rebecca, to meet Cassandra for a movie or dinner. But it didn’t seem like he had any plans to leave Rebecca for her. In Colin’s mind—and seemingly in Cassandra’s—this was just casual.

That changed when Cassandra found out she was pregnant with his child. On July 16th, 2020, Cassandra learned she was expecting. She and Colin had just been casually seeing each other, but now things were more complicated. When Cassandra’s OB-GYN was questioned, she said Cassandra had listed Colin as the father during her initial appointment.

The doctor’s notes also included that the pregnancy was not planned, that Cassandra was feeling overwhelmed, and that the father of the baby was supportive of the pregnancy but did not plan to be involved in raising the child. The notes also mentioned that Cassandra and Colin were on good terms. This paperwork proved Colin knew about the baby.

So, motive? Obviously, Cassandra was pregnant, and Colin didn’t want to break up with Rebecca or even let her find out. He might have decided, "I’m going to kill her." Insane.

Cassandra told Colin about the pregnancy on August 12th—13 days before she disappeared. She must have been pretty nervous about it, though. Before the pregnancy, Cassandra had hypothetical conversations with Colin, and allegedly, he told her he never wanted kids. She was putting feelers out about the situation, and his response was chilling. He said he never wanted kids and even went as far as saying, "If any girlfriend of mine got pregnant and wouldn’t get an abortion, I would sue to get full custody just to spite the mother for having the child."

Oh my gosh, what?! That’s such a monstrous thing to say. Also, you’re not going to get full custody, you idiot.

You can see why Cassandra was probably dreading breaking the news to him. She wanted to do the right thing, though. She felt like he had a right to know. Poor Cassandra. Maybe she even thought he would change his mind if the situation became a reality. So, she went to Colin and told him. She made it clear he didn’t need to be involved.

"I’m pregnant. I don’t care if you’re involved. I am going to have the baby, though," she told him. She even said, "You can sign over your parental rights. I won’t pressure you for child support."

To her surprise, it went better than expected—at least, that’s what she told Alexandra when she called her.

After the meeting, Colin told Cassandra not to worry about it and that they would talk more about it soon. Then, two weeks later, Cassandra vanished.

Oh my gosh.

By this point, the police didn’t have a weapon or a body—all they had was a lot of digital evidence. But in this day and age, that’s enough to get a search warrant. And that’s exactly what happened. On September 1st, 2020, about a week after Cassandra’s disappearance, they showed up at Colin and Rebecca’s house with a SWAT team, the FBI, and a K-9 unit.

They searched his truck and his home for any sign of Cassandra, and the dogs immediately led them to the basement, particularly to a brown sofa.

Oh man.

However, they didn’t find any concrete signs of her. What they did learn was something troubling. Remember how Colin said that on August 25th, he didn’t do much—just went to Costco? Well, the police found out that, at Costco, he bought 50-gallon trash bags.

Yeah, not a great thing to buy just hours before your pregnant mistress goes missing.

That means this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. And this was further confirmed when police discovered that, after his Costco run, Colin went to the parking garage and dropped his truck off there.

This was before he even met up with Cassandra that morning. He first went to Costco, bought the trash bags, and then dropped his truck off at the parking garage he would later return to. It’s obviously premeditated—first-degree murder. Everything points to it.

Yes.

He then biked out of the garage and made the 20-minute trip back home. He thought this plan out well in advance.

Oh yeah.

During the search of his property, police also asked Colin’s current girlfriend, Rebecca, to come down to the station. Here’s the thing: Rebecca was supposedly home the afternoon Colin met up with Cassandra. That raises some questions:

• Did she know about the affair?

• Did she know Cassandra was pregnant?

• Did she know about the murder?

When detectives questioned her and asked if she thought Colin was capable of hurting Cassandra, her response was odd. She didn’t answer right away. She actually sat there silently for 13 seconds.

They asked again, “Do you think he could have killed her?”

Thirteen seconds went by before she finally responded. “Physically, yes. He’s got size and strength on her. But... I don’t think he would. No, he would not do that.”

What?

No.

Police don’t have any evidence to assume Rebecca was involved, but this answer definitely raised eyebrows.

I don’t even care if Rebecca hears this—that’s weird. That is a weird answer.

Really, the police needed a body before they could arrest Colin. They knew he was guilty, but was it murder or kidnapping? It’s hard to say without finding Cassandra.

This is why their next move was pretty genius.

Technology had been proving pretty fruitful throughout the investigation—it was Colin’s Achilles’ heel. So, they figured, “Let’s keep going down this path.”

Now, newer cars, like the one Colin owned, have what’s essentially a "black box" inside them. Those dashboard computers with Apple CarPlay, calling capabilities, and GPS—you’ve seen them. While you might be able to turn off your cell phone, there’s no easy way to turn those off if your engine is running.

So, in the same way you can track a cell phone, you can actually track those little computers in a car. Police got the data from Colin’s vehicle and sent it off for analysis. Here’s what they found:

The day after Cassandra’s disappearance, on August 26th, Colin’s car drove out to a wooded area eight miles from his house around 6:00 in the morning and stopped there.

It took a few weeks to get this information back from specialists, but on September 22nd, 2020, just hours after receiving the details, police raced to the location where Colin’s truck had been that morning. After only minutes of scouring the area, they found her body.

I’m sorry—in a ravine. There was a body wrapped in trash bags.

Oh gosh.

A search and rescue team had to use what they call a high-angle ropes operation to recover the body because the ravine was very steep. When they opened the bag, they found a distinctive mark that confirmed it was Cassandra: her tattoo that read, “We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”

Now, with more than enough evidence, police arrested 37-year-old Colin Dudley later that evening. He was charged with the first-degree murder of 33-year-old Cassandra Cantrell.

When they conducted the autopsy, they found that Cassandra had been stabbed several times and sustained multiple injuries to her head. Her cause of death was ultimately ruled as blunt force trauma. Police believe Colin killed her in his basement, kept her body there overnight, and then dumped her the next morning.

But this brings us back to Rebecca, Colin’s girlfriend. I mean, how do you sleep in a house with a dead body and not know it’s there? It’s in the basement.

Police had no indication that Rebecca knew anything, so they assumed, based on a lack of evidence, that she was unaware of what happened.

After months of back-and-forth postponements and court delays, there was finally some movement in the case. On November 14th, 2022—two years after Colin’s arrest—prosecutors felt they had an extremely strong case, thanks to the digital evidence. However, they decided to work out a plea deal with Colin.

He ultimately accepted the deal. In exchange for his plea, he was sentenced to just 26 years behind bars for Cassandra’s murder.

Cassandra’s family did not agree with the deal, and honestly, I can’t blame them. They felt the digital evidence was strong enough to take the case to trial. I have to agree. If this case had gone to trial, Colin Dudley would have received a much harsher sentence—certainly more than 26 years.

With good behavior, he could be out by 2044. He’ll be in his 60s, with plenty of life left to live—a life Cassandra and her unborn child will never get to have.

Twenty-six years for killing a pregnant, soon-to-be mother? I understand why Cassandra’s family was upset.

The moral of the story is this: we need to trust that digital evidence is just as strong, if not stronger, than traditional evidence. In many cases, it’s better than a murder weapon. Digital evidence should be considered just as definitive as any “smoking gun” in a courtroom. Technology is only making cases like this stronger, and I remain optimistic that more cases will be solved because of it.

But you know who else was optimistic? Cassandra. In a rocky and uncertain time in her life, she chose to have hope and to see a bright and happy future for herself. She seized it. She didn’t care what others thought of her decision to have a child. Her courage is something to be remembered and admired.

And that is our case for this week. I think we can all learn something from Cassandra. Let’s take a moment to think about her and her family.

Yeah, it just feels so pointless.

She was pregnant, too. She even told him he could sign away his parental rights. And, like, dude, you were the one cheating. Take some freaking responsibility.

Yeah, it makes you mad.

All right, you guys, that’s our case for this week. We’ll see you next time with another one.

I love it

And I hate it.

Goodbye.

‍

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