Bring Her Home: Virginia Pictou Noyes, Part Two
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Life is full of adventures. Do you take this man to be your husband? I do. Welcome home. We did it. He has your eyes. He's perfect. Make the most of them all with PenFed checking and savings accounts. Learn more at PenFed.org. Federally insured by NCOA. To receive any advertised product, you must become a member of PenFed Credit Union. I'm Kristen Seavey. This is Murder, She Told.

This is part two of Virginia Pictou's story. If you haven't listened to part one, I suggest going back and starting with that one first. This episode contains topics of racism and descriptions of domestic violence. Please listen with care. Virginia Pictou Noyes had vanished without a trace, and all eyes were on her husband and his brother. Virginia's father, Robert Sr., spoke to the spirit of vengeance that was growing in his sons.

Our dad, first thing he did was caution us that the noise boys were off limits. He said, he goes, I don't want to be visiting you in prison because he knew what would happen. He goes, I know what you're thinking and I know what you're doing. He goes, I could get them to talk within an hour. I go, what do you mean? He goes, I'll grab them by the scuff of the neck.

And I'll drag them out to the woods where no one can hear them scream. And I'll find a tree stump and I'll lay their hand out and I'll hit every one of their knuckles. And I will break them until they tell me where she is. He goes, but I can't do that. You can't do that. So that was kind of interesting that my dad even thought about that. Larry said that he believed she was still alive and that her family was hiding her.

He also said that Virginia left a note that read, "I'm leaving in April or August of 1993, and I'll be back when all my children turn 18." But in the same breath, he also said that she might have been having an affair with his brother Roger, and that he might know what happened.

He explained that she and Roger had dated before they were married. He said that the night of her disappearance, he got angry with them when his brother familiarly slapped her butt, but he denied that he even hit Virginia at all that evening. After her disappearance, Roger admitted to him and their mother that he had loved Virginia and said that she was the only love he'd ever had.

Their sister Terri confirmed the close relationship between Roger and Virginia. Larry said, "The whole family thinks Roger might be involved." Not one person in the Pictou family believed that Virginia would abandon her children.

She loved them. Even one of Larry and Roger's employers, Barbara Bird, said, "'Even though she was worn out from childbearing, she never would have left them. No matter what the circumstances, she didn't want anyone else to take care of them. If she were alive today, she would be with her children.'"

I never seen someone so devoted to their children as Virginia was when I saw her with her children. She loved her children right to death. She would lay down before them.

Larry, with the help of his mother and aunt, cared for the five children. But he soon got in trouble with the law again, racking up five charges related to a single drunken incident. He was convicted of another DUI, driving after suspension, driving to endanger, failure to stop, and a violation of bail conditions, which earned him a year in jail. The interview that he gave to the Bangor Daily News was conducted from jail.

When Larry went to jail, the children were placed in foster care. A family in Limestone, another small town near Fort Fairfield, adopted three of them, Brittany, Miley, and Linnae, the three youngest daughters. The details of the adoption were kept private from the Pictou family until they were older. The two older boys went with their father, Ward Ballard.

In August of 1994, over a year after Virginia's disappearance, Roger, then 28 years old, was on probation and violated a condition of it by assaulting his wife. He got 10 days in jail plus some more time from his suspended jail sentence. Robert Sr. was convinced of his daughter's demise and said that her spirit, Red Bear, was restless and couldn't find peace until her remains were found and buried with her family.

He said, I know in my heart she is no longer with us in this world. According to the journalist for the newspaper, Gloria Flannery, police agreed with his assessment. Robert Sr. had traveled from his home in Sydney, Nova Scotia, one of the easternmost parts of Canada, to a native fortune teller over 2,000 miles away. The soothsayer told him that Virginia was buried near an abandoned barn that had missing boards.

He next was pursuing a ceremony in a sweat lodge, in a shaking tent ceremony, which is often conducted by a spiritual tribal leader, often referred to as a shaman. Virginia was constantly on his mind. He got an image of her laminated. And they had one of my mom. And he had them both in almost in essence like placemats. When he was eating, he'd always have one hand with them. So they were always eating with them.

It was difficult to even track down photos of Virginia because so many of the Picto's childhood photos have been lost in the fire. They ended up using a driver's license photo, which is one of the best I've ever seen, but it wasn't published in the newspaper for over a year. Robert Sr. said that there was a common native saying, justice will be served if you wait.

Agnes agreed, saying, When the timing is right, someone will say something, and that will be the end of it. They will find her. I feel peace about that. Waiting is the hardest part. For that same article, the Bangor Daily News interviewed Larry in jail. He maintained his innocence, and even went a step further, claiming he never hit Virginia. Quote, Let them think what they want. I know what is true.

The Maine State Police had identified Roger and Larry as prime suspects in their conversation with a reporter. When the reporter broached the topic with Larry, he became animated, recalling that he was ready to rip his head off when Detective Medore coaxed him to confess to killing his wife.

A few months prior, in May of 1994, the Maine State Police asked the public for help. The lead detective asked people to rack their memories and call in a tip if they could recall any vehicle, tracks, or person in the fields or wooded areas between Holton and Easton the night she disappeared, which, at that time, was over a year ago.

There was nothing further in the news about Virginia's case for years, but the Noyes brothers made the paper again in 1996. Roger, who was 30 at the time, was arrested for driving under the influence and driving with a revoked license. Larry, in October, who was 29, was arrested on charges of assault and theft. He was given a six-month jail sentence.

In 1997, the lead detective from the Maine State Police retired, and although the family wouldn't know it at the time, he gave an interview to the Bangor Daily News. He said, In my opinion, Virginia disappeared at the hands of Larry. If I'd had the evidence to arrest Larry, I would have. Everything pointed towards him.

He recalled that Larry underwent a polygraph examination and the results indicated deception, but he said that they followed up on all the leads that they could and that they were at a dead end. In 1997, Virginia's father wrote an editorial to the local Fort Fairfield paper. In it, he asked the public for help for information in his daughter's disappearance.

He reflected on the assault charges against Leary and Roger, which were dropped on account of her disappearance. He said that her memory was forever on his mind, day and night, and said, We will not forget her, Ta Ho, her father, Strong Sky, Robert J. Pictou. This would be the last article about Virginia that would be published in any Maine newspaper for 15 years.

In 2001, Roger got two more motor vehicle charges, driving under the influence and driving with a revoked license. Larry and Roger's mother died at the age of 62 in 2008. She was buried in Riverside Cemetery, the same one her boys had vandalized. The following year, Roger Noyes died at the age of 44.

In 2011, Larry was arrested on several domestic violence charges, which included domestic violence terrorism, violation of a restraining order, and tampering with a witness. Virginia's family created a public Facebook page as a way to share memories, family photographs, and facts about the case.

That page has been deactivated, but in July of 2011, Jamie Owens, whose mom grew up as a friend of Virginia's, created a private Facebook group for people who were determined to get answers. That group still exists today, and it has 1,200 members.

They searched fields and forests. They coordinated canine searches. They checked into a tip that a car that was used the night of her disappearance mysteriously burned shortly thereafter. They contacted the Maine State Police and supplied them with information they had uncovered. Virginia's older brother, Francis, credited the organizers of the group with bringing new energy to the investigation.

In December of 2011, the group's privacy settings were changed to public, and Larry Noyes joined, protesting his innocence and insisting that Virginia had left a note. He was active in the group for one week and then disappeared.

After a 15-year absence, the BDN covered a search that took about four hours along the banks of Wallagrass Stream. One of the searchers, Cindy, said that she had worn out two pairs of shoes searching the woods of northern Maine, looking for Virginia.

Also around 2012, Robert made a drastic change in his life, moving to a remote town in northwestern Canada called Terrace to speak regularly about Native issues as a nightly TV show host to encourage more Indigenous people to apply for certain grants. But he ended up getting recruited himself, and he found a new calling.

When Virginia went missing, we did our best to get the word out there. Things are easier now with Instagram and TikTok and things like that. But back in the early 90s, it was hard to get words out of getting any traction with mainstream media.

So I said, okay, you know, if I can't get there, then I'll do something with it. So I can bring these issues, may not specifically Virginia, but I can bring these issues. So I gave up my job and got into media. I'm fortunate enough to be in the job where they allow me to do things, where I can talk about domestic violence. I can talk about social justice. I can talk about poverty, mental health. And these things, I believe, I wouldn't have done if Virginia was still around, I don't think.

I can say that I can, you know, be that person who's saying, oh, yeah, yeah, I would have done this all anyway. But I believe Virginia's disappearance and I have two aunties that also were murdered. Someone has to speak up for our life givers. And it can be other life givers. But why not be those that most likely had something to do with it? And that is men.

You know, you need to talk to this. Like, hey, you can't do that. You can't make a person feel that way. You know, we got to find other ways of actually talking and discussing things. You can't use your fists to answer a question.

Meanwhile, Larry's life continued to spiral. In 2015, Larry was 48 years old and in poor health. Bangor Daily News later did a spotlight on his girlfriend, Carolyn Fish. She said that from the moment they began dating, they were inseparable, in part because Larry required hourly care for the health problems that had been caused by his lifelong drinking. They were in and out of shelters, campsites, and apartments together.

In early 2017, during the winter, Larry was hospitalized for 170 days after he suffered an alcohol-induced stroke. He was diagnosed with advanced liver cirrhosis, but he still continued to drink. In late 2017, they were still homeless, staying at an encampment on the bank of the Penobscot River, locally known as Tent City.

Around Thanksgiving, police broke up the campsite, and shortly thereafter, Larry became violently ill and required a 10-day hospital stay for pneumonia and sepsis from an infected leg wound. In December, they had a short stay at the Bangor Area Homeless Shelter, but within a week were asked to leave because they struggled abiding by the rules.

Over the next few months, they spent the last bit of money they had on hotels and alcohol. And it took another four months for them to find an apartment. By this point, Larry's eyes had turned a sickly yellow from drinking. On June 1, 2018, they moved into an affordable housing unit on Court Street, and Larry's health seemed to be on the upswing. But as old friends started dropping by, Larry relapsed.

By late July, he got incredibly sick and died shortly after at 51 years old. Larry died without revealing any further information about Virginia's disappearance. At this point, Larry, Roger, his mother, and his father were all gone. I'm sending my Aunt Tina money directly to her bank account in the Philippines with Western Union. She's the self-proclaimed bingo queen of Manila, and I know better to interrupt her on bingo night, even to pick up cash.

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Before Larry died, his nephew, Roger's son, Ryan Noyes, made an explosive revelation to the organizer of the Facebook group, Jamie Owens. He gave her the names of three people who were involved with her killing, including his own father, Roger.

Ryan said that a car that was used in the killing was burned inside a barn in Easton, and that it was possible that Virginia was inside. It was Jamie who had approached Ryan, not the other way around. She had heard that he had told someone in the community some details about her murder, so she decided to ask him what he knew. She provided the transcript of the Facebook messages to CBC News, a Canadian journalism outlet, and they revealed that Ryan said...

I don't think there's anything left to be found, presumably of her remains.

They contacted Ryan for an interview, but he declined, saying, I don't want to talk about it. This is 20-something years old, and I had no part of it. Another brutal part of that story is when someone says, oh yeah, yeah, I heard so-and-so say something about this to so-and-so. And you get your hopes up that you might be able to bring closure to this, and just to find out that it's dashed again. And

I don't know how many countless times that we heard that, where we had our hopes raised because we had this little bead of hope that we can bring Virginia home. And then it's dashed again. We found out it's just smoke and mirrors. We go to grab it, and there's nothing there.

Virginia's older brother, Francis Pictou, contacted the Maine Attorney General's office, the prosecutors that would make charging decisions and could direct investigative focus. When he asked them about Ryan's statement,

An official told him that Ryan had told the Maine State Police that same information directly a couple of years prior, and police had conducted a search of the location. They also said that they planned to interview remaining members of the Noyes family about the case.

This unfolded just days before the Pictou family was scheduled to testify at a hearing that was being conducted by the Canadian government looking into missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls and two spirits, MMIWG2S, or MMIW for short.

Robert traveled from the other side of Canada to join his family to testify, in Sydney, Nova Scotia, at the Member 2 Reservation. They were one of 50 families and survivors that agreed to participate from Member 2, and one of 10 that gave public testimony. The national inquiry was initiated by the Canadian government in August of 2016 and concluded about three years later, in June of 2019.

They told Virginia's story in their own words. And for the first time, it was officially transcribed and made part of public history. Many Canadian reporters covered the story. In April of 2018, the family conducted a press conference in Presque Isle, Maine, to commemorate the 25th anniversary of Virginia's disappearance. That was five years ago. The 30th anniversary is in just two weeks.

Larry was still alive at this point, and between the Canadian inquiry and the press conference, news outlets were trying to hunt him down, but none of them were successful at securing an interview. The family also conducted a letting-go ceremony to heal some of their lingering wounds and give an outlet for their grief. They also held a talking circle to honor their sister and keep her memory alive for her children.

It's unclear why exactly, but there is a huge disparity between the frequency at which Native women go missing or are murdered compared with white women, and a huge disparity of what makes the media. It may be a combination of factors. In Virginia's case, it may have something to do with the poisonous residential school system in Canada that her father was subject to. He is a survivor, and so was her mother.

My dad was abducted at the age of six. He was playing, and he went up to a neighbor's house, and he went upstairs, and he went to bed. Because at that time, those that didn't know, you hid your children. Because if the Indian agent showed up, shortly thereafter, the RCMP would show up, and they would take the children if they knew them. It was almost like an actively hunting of children.

children because they were hidden. A lot of times people took them and put them in the bush or went away. So my dad was abducted at the age of six, taken over, and he was placed at Chippenagany Indian School where he was part of, I keep getting these numbers mixed up, I don't know, it was 500 or 1,000. It may have been 500 boys and 500 girls or 1,000 combined. I don't know for sure. It

So here's my dad at the age of six. I get taken away to a place away from everything I know, placed with other people. And there's people who are in positions of authority telling me things to do in a language that I do not understand. And I'm punished because I don't do those things that I don't understand immediately as a child at the age of six.

Children are resilient and what ends up happening is he was able to identify the words 172 as his name. So when he heard those syllables put together, he knew they were talking to him and telling him what to do. He did pick up English.

But for the most part, his days consisted of waking up, getting dressed into work clothes, go working at the farm because a lot of them were working fields. I think he took care of the horses because there was horses, pigs, cows, and all kinds of animals there. And then he would come back, change his clothes, go to church, and then he was able to get something to eat.

Then he would have schooling for a couple hours where his major thing was practicing the writing of his name. And then after 1 o'clock to about 5 o'clock, he would work. And then they had free time after supper. He could stand on the top of his building and he could see his house, but he couldn't go there for seven years. When he graduated, he said he could only tell time.

He spoke English, but he couldn't write or read until he went to day school. And in day school, they taught him how to read and write, and he was in day school for about three years. The residential school program in Canada were designed to, over generations, assimilate the many different Native tribes into dominant Canadian culture by isolating children from their families. The United States did the same thing.

They had a difficult time breaking that bond of family because it was so strong between children and community and space and land. A lot of times when it comes to Indigenous people, a good example would be my last name. My last name is Pictou. There is a town of Pictou, and that's where our family originated from. So my name is directly tied to the land.

Over the course of the system's roughly 120-year existence, an estimated 150,000 children went through the program. At its height, one in three Native children were under compulsory residential school enrollment. The kids would be sent to often far-flung locations, where they would live full-time at a school administered by a Christian or Catholic church.

Children were punished for speaking the native tongue and were forced to use English. Physical and sexual abuse was rampant. The harsh discipline administered would not have been tolerated at any other Canadian school. They were forced to work long hours. Some were likened to concentration camps. A historian, John Malloy, argued that the system's aim was to, quote, "...kill the Indian in the child."

Families would frequently travel to the schools and sometimes camp outside to be close to their kids. One of the leaders of the program noticed this trend and argued that the schools should be strategically located further away from reservations to make this journey more difficult for families, discouraging them from visiting.

He also encouraged schools to require students to stay on campus during holidays and breaks because he believed the trips to see their family would disrupt their assimilation. When families did have visits with their children, they would often be supervised, and the school official would often only allow English to be spoken, effectively making communication impossible.

Children suffered from malnourishment, starvation, and disease, and many died. Though estimates vary widely, as little as 2%, but as many as 20% of all children enrolled perished.

Huge fields of unmarked graves containing hundreds of children's bodies have been uncovered in the past 10 years. When they graduated from these institutions, they would often face new difficulties returning to their families. They could no longer speak their native tongue. They were unfamiliar with their own culture. They felt like outsiders in their own home.

In the late 2000s, Canadian politicians and religious organizations began to recognize and apologize for their roles in the system. In 2015, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada determined that the residential schools were a system of cultural genocide. The system ultimately proved successful, though, in disrupting the transmission of Indigenous practices and beliefs across generations.

In learning about residential schools, it seemed like something that would have existed in the 1800s. But I was stunned to learn that the height of the student enrollment happened in the 1960s. And the final residential school didn't close until 1997. I never knew my dad went to residential school until he mentioned it probably about 8 to 10 years ago.

Never mentioned it at all. And then when there was a big identification of residential school, he finally talked about it. But he never told us how life was. Even today, at 84 years old, Robert Sr. still grapples with the lingering trauma from his experience.

His biggest fear right now is actually going to sleep. He's 84 years old, and he says when he sleeps, he becomes that little boy again. And he wakes up drenched in sweat. Some of the themes from residential school, physical abuse, and poor role models were present in Virginia's life.

Because it isn't a simple one of just someone going missing. It's residential school, it's MMIW, it's domestic violence, it's substance abuse, it's being raised around substance abuse. You know, there's all kinds of factors in this. Unfortunately, if Virginia was that perfect candidate, it narrowed down. It was going to happen. It was just a matter of when, unfortunately.

Robert credits his lifelong journey of reconnecting to his native customs as having saved him from perpetuating the cycle. It is a story of hope.

How we all went around our own healing paths was just all unique and different. You know, I followed a spiritual path. If it wasn't for First Nation spirituality, I would be a Larry. I would be a Roger. You know, I may not be fighting women, you know, but it'd be at that same anger level and stuff like that. It was just boiling inside of me, you know. Sweat lodges helped a lot. You know, talking circles helped a lot. Going to a counselor, you know, we need to change that. The raising of awareness, saying, hey, you know, it's okay.

Just because you say, I need help, doesn't mean you're broken. And even if you're broken, you can still do things to help you out and help other people out too.

Robert is hopeful that the government can change too, but he believes that the first thing that's required is admitting that there's a problem. In his work in Canada, he noticed a disturbing trend with missing person cases that he researched. When I started doing more research into MMIW, I would always come across here in Canada the RCMP missing reports. And usually in the first two or three sentences, they said something that was really disheartening.

And that would be known sex trade worker, known drug abuser. Are these really necessary in missing persons report? Instead, it should be woman, you know, this height, this build, but not known sex worker. What does that have to do with it? Whenever he or another family member has tried to follow up on Virginia's case, he just gets the runaround. As families, we keep bumping our heads against the bureaucracy. We don't know.

Who we need to talk to or what we need to do. We just know that Virginia is missing and we're trying to find some kind of justice, you know, whatever it may be. Currently right now, we know that I believe her two assailants have passed and we just want to bring her home.

One of the things I kept running into over and over and over again is being passed around. That's not my job. Oh, you have to talk to this department. You need to talk to this person. Even when we got to a person who was the victim's advocate in the state of Maine, initially we were getting some response, but it was just empty words because there was nothing behind it.

We just want to know what's going on. What can we do? What can we do to help? I did my part where I had a job in banking. I gave up that job to get into media because I believed when it comes to First Nations and First Nations issues, unfortunately, the only time you hear anything is when there's a protest or when there is a break in the status quo as far as behaving good little Indians. But what needs to be done

is you need to make it easier for the victims of the family. They're dealing with enough grief already, you know, with a missing person. And then you hit them up with, well, you're talking to the wrong person. Or, sorry, we can't tell you that. It's an active case. They've never contacted me or answered my calls. Absolutely nothing from the police.

I did, unfortunately, get a frantic Facebook message from my niece, Leanne. She was saying, you know, Uncle Robert, the police are here at my door. What do I do? They want to talk about mom. And so she's messaged me on Facebook. She doesn't have, you know, a cell phone to call me here in Canada, you know, long distance. And I was just shocked.

that, you know, there was no victim's advocate. There was no one to warn. It was just a man in uniform showing up saying, I wanted to talk to you about your missing mother to an adult girl who's never known her mom physically. I'm going to say emotionally, you could say, because last time she saw her mom, she was probably about three years old.

And this is 20 years later, and a man shows up and says, I want to talk to you about your mom. And when he left, he had a picture on the folder. And on the folder was a picture of my sister that was taken at the hospital, showing her with a blackened eye and a split lip. Now, my niece, who has never really known who her mom was except through pictures, sees her as an adult, as a battered woman. And after they left, there was no follow-up.

Every now and then, when it gets handed off, of course, the police will show up and they'll interview the children again. Why they interview the children, I don't know. Maybe it's because they're handy. Oh, I can look it up and say, this is where they are. But they haven't talked to my brother Francis, you know, me, Agnes. You know, they haven't talked to any of us, the adults. They're just checking the boxes, you know, and there may be that they're overworked. You know, I don't believe it's malice on the part of the Maine State Police.

But it kind of looks that way. He has a theory as to why this case hasn't gotten the attention it deserves. It's one of those things, unfortunately, when it comes to, I believe, racism. You know, this is another drunk Indian that we've got to deal with. Another troublemaker. And I don't know if it's from burnout or from cultural norms.

But she was my sister, and she was a human being, and she deserved equal protection under the law. We asked Robert what he thought happened to Virginia. They killed her. It may have been accidental, and it may have been accumulation of things. You know, today we know a lot more about concussions, you know, through medical science, you know, with football, with boxers, with...

You know, we know more about what happens to the brain if it's been injured time and time again. I believe what happened was after she got out of the hospital, I don't know if she left on her own free will or if they came and got her after they bailed out. But I think they crossed paths shortly thereafter, either hitchhiking, whatever it may be, but they crossed paths.

and they were going to go to prison and they beat her again. Except this time when they beat her, she suffered a brain hemorrhage or something like that and she died. It may have been accidental, but you still put your fist to someone.

And there is consequences for that. You know, there is, you know, law does make lead way for things called manslaughter or was an accidental death. You know, I beat her, but I didn't mean to kill her. It could have stopped there. Instead, I believe they took it to the next level where they went and concealed the body somewhere. And I think they did that while they were down in Bangor before they even left home.

Robert continues to honor Virginia's memory in his own way as a beadwork artist. I'll include a link to his MMIW-inspired shop in the show notes if you'd like to support his work.

So there was a fire and we lost all our baby pictures. Everything was gone. All our family photos, with a few exceptions that my mom gave out. What ended up happening was when Virginia went missing, we had no pictures of Virginia, no recent pictures. Picture from her driver's license, what we used for her missing photo.

I wanted to pay tribute to Virginia in her memory. So I sat down and I beaded a portrait. And the portrait's like your average portrait, 4x6. And it contains 7,423 or 7,424 beads.

And each one of those beads, when we do something like that, we say a prayer per bead for however we're doing. If I'm doing something with someone in mind, if it's a red dress or a pair of earrings, I say a little prayer with that. It's like, help these people. Help this person. Give a little strength to this person as you go along. And

So I beaded this portrait because I needed something to say, hey, you know, memory fails. And it's like, I want to see Virginia. And it was kind of interesting. Once I finished this beaded portrait, I...

I made two of them actually. One of them I made and I gave to my dad so he could have a portrait of her too. But the beaded portrait I made is what I call living. It's not stiff so the beads are woven together and you can actually move and flex it. I also take Virginia with me wherever I go. Just recently I was at Assembly of First Nations in Canada. They had a gathering for murder and missing indigenous women and girls in Vancouver and I brought Virginia there and I introduced Virginia to the

Assembly First Nations chief. Robert, like me, wants to humanize the victims behind the statistics. He proposed bringing childhood objects to show the girl behind the picture. For his sister, it would be her tea set. He said, "'Virginia would always invite you to her tea and bannock party. And that's the Virginia I remember. I want to let the world know about that little girl.'"

Speaking to Robert, I can feel his passion for his sister and to make a difference more broadly in the MMIW movement. And I believe he will. We can't stop. We've got nowhere else to go. And we're not going away until we stop breathing. Because this is our family. We've got to change how we actually go about living this life.

April 24th, 2023 marks 30 years without Virginia, and her family just wants to bring her home. If you have any information about the whereabouts of Virginia Sue Picto's location, I encourage you to reach out to the Maine State Police at 207-973-3750 or toll-free at 1-800-432-7381.

Thank you so much for listening. If you're enjoying Murder, She Told, I would love it if you shared it with a friend. Word of mouth or sharing on social media or recommending it is one of the best ways to help reach new listeners. And if you want to support the show in other ways, there's a link in the show notes with options. Follow Murder, She Told on social media at Murder, She Told Podcast on Instagram, at Murder, She Told on TikTok, and Murder, She Told on Facebook. And if you're enjoying Murder, She Told, I would love it if you shared it with a friend.

A detailed list of sources and photos from this episode and more can be found at MurderSheTold.com.

A very special thanks to Robert Pictou for spending so much time with us talking about his sister and for trusting us with her story. Thank you to Byron Willis for his writing and research and to Erica Pierce and Brittany Healy for their research support. If you have a suggestion or a correction, I would love to hear from you. You can email me at hello at murdershetold.com. I'm Kristen Sevey, and this is Murder, She Told. Thank you for listening.