JUST IN: Oklahoma To EXECUTE The ONLY Woman on Death Row, Says She Was Convicted for Being a Woman
JUST IN: Oklahoma To EXECUTE The ONLY Woman on Death Row, Says She Was Convicted for Being a Woman

Brenda Andrew, the only woman on Oklahoma’s death row, denied in federal appeals court Tuesday, the 10th Circuit upholding her 2004 first-degree murder sentencing. The former Sunday school teacher was convicted of killing her estranged husband, Oklahoma. A prison [music] cell, one woman, over two decades of waiting.
Her name is Brenda Evers Andrew. She is the only woman on death row in the entire state of Oklahoma. No execution date has been set, not yet. But the state has never stopped moving. She was a Sunday school teacher, a stay-at-home mother, a church-going woman with no criminal record. So, how did she end up here? Court records show that during her trial, a prosecutor stood before the jury and held up her underwear, >> [music] >> one piece at a time, and asked whether a grieving widow would pack something like that. Hours later, that same jury
sentenced her to die. What the prosecution did inside that courtroom is almost impossible to believe. And two federal judges said exactly that. Her alleged co-conspirator and lover, James Pavatt, [music] also sits on death row today. Was Brenda Andrew convicted of murder or of simply being the wrong kind of woman? What happened next changed everything.
Welcome back to Red Mark Files. If you are new here, this is where true crime meets real justice. Hit subscribe and stay with us. This story is only just beginning. Before we talk about what happened in that garage, you need to know who Rob Andrew was, not just a name in a court file, not just a statistic, >> [music] >> a real person.
Robert Andrew, known to everyone around him simply as Rob, grew up in Enid, Oklahoma. It was a quiet, middle-class town, the kind of place where people went to church on Sundays, looked out for their neighbors, and believed in doing things the right way. By all accounts, Rob Andrew was exactly that kind of man. He was ambitious.
When a job opportunity came up in Texas, he packed up and moved, and Brenda went with him. That was the kind of commitment he had, not just to his career, but to his family. Eventually, the two of them returned to Oklahoma, and Rob continued working to provide for the household while Brenda stayed home with the children. He was a father.
He and Brenda had two children together. Friends and family describe him as present, involved, and deeply connected to his kids. Even after the marriage began falling apart, Rob never walked away from his role as a father. He was a man who tried to save his marriage. When things got difficult between him and Brenda, Rob did not simply walk out.
Court records show the couple sought marriage counseling. They consulted spiritual advisers. He was trying, right up until he couldn’t anymore. >> [music] >> In September 2001, Rob and Brenda officially separated. The divorce process began. Custody arrangements were being worked out, >> [music] >> and Rob’s life insurance policy, worth a reported $800,000, became a point [music] of serious dispute between them.
Despite everything, Rob kept showing up for his children. Visitation continued. He remained in their lives. On the evening of November 20th, 2001, he came to the family home, just like he always did, to pick up his kids. Rob Andrew was shot twice that night. He never made it out of his own garage.
Now, here is where this story gets complicated, because the woman at the center of this case does not fit the picture most people have of someone on death row. Brenda Evers Andrew was born and raised right there in Enid, Oklahoma, the same town as Rob, same kind of community, same kind of values.
Her family was middle-class and deeply Christian. Those who knew her as a child described her as quiet and well-behaved. She earned good grades. She was involved in church from a young age. She was not a troublemaker, not even close. That did not change when she became an adult. Before any of this happened, Brenda was a Sunday school teacher and a stay-at-home mother.
At a previous job, she was voted employee of the year, and court records show it was not just for her own work. It was because she spent extra time helping her colleagues with theirs. Her neighbors remembered her as the woman who cooked meals for people when they were sick. She regularly walked an elderly neighbor living with Alzheimer’s disease so he could safely get some fresh air.
After her father passed away, her family described her as the glue that [music] held the family together. Her cousin testified that she provided loving, consistent support for her severely mentally impaired brother throughout their entire childhood. Even after she was locked up, she sent dozens of letters offering comfort to a grieving aunt.
Her Christian faith was not something she wore on Sundays only. It was the foundation of her life before prison and inside it. So, the question has to be asked, how does a woman like this end up as Oklahoma’s only female death row inmate? The prosecution had an answer, and that answer centered on one man, >> [music] >> James Pavatt, a fellow member of her church, an insurance agent, and someone the Andrews family already knew.
On the surface, Brenda Andrew looked like the last person who would ever end up on death row. But, prosecutors had a very different story to tell, and the way they told it would shock legal experts for decades. By September 2001, the Andrew marriage was officially over. Every attempt to save it had failed. The counseling sessions had gone nowhere.
The conversations with spiritual advisers had changed nothing. Rob and Brenda separated, and the slow, painful process of divorce began. Brenda remained the primary caretaker of the two children. Rob had visitation rights. That meant he still came to the house regularly. Two people who could no longer live together were now forced to keep showing up in each other’s lives for the sake of the kids.
Court records show that by this point, the financial stakes were rising fast. Rob’s life insurance policy had become a serious point of tension. Prosecutors later argued that Brenda was fully aware of how much that policy was worth and fully aware that a divorce settlement could change everything about who would benefit from it.
At the same time, her relationship with James Pavatt was growing deeper. They had met through their shared church congregation. He was not a stranger. He was someone the family already knew. And as the marriage was falling apart, Pavatt was becoming an increasingly significant presence in Brenda’s life. What made investigators take notice was Pavatt’s profession.
He was an insurance agent. He understood how life insurance policies worked, how they paid out, who qualified, and under what conditions. Prosecutors would later use that detail to argue that the planning behind what happened was not impulsive. It was calculated. Those close to the family recall a household under enormous pressure during this period.
Divorce proceedings were moving forward. The insurance dispute was unresolved. And every time Rob came to that house for visitation, the tension came with him. By November 2001, nothing had been settled. The divorce was still ongoing. The insurance question was still open. And Pavatt was still in the picture. By November 20th, 2001, everything was in motion.
Rob Andrew was coming to the house. And court records would later suggest someone was waiting. To understand what prosecutors believed happened that night, you have to understand who James Pavatt was and what role they said he played. Pavatt was not someone who came out of nowhere. He was a member of the same church congregation as the Andrews family.
He and Brenda had crossed paths in that community long before any of this began. When Brenda’s marriage started falling apart, Pavatt was already nearby. By the time of the separation, court records indicate the two had developed a romantic relationship. And Pavatt’s occupation made him stand out in this investigation.
He was a trained and experienced insurance agent. He understood policy structures. He understood beneficiary arrangements. He understood, better than most people, exactly what a life insurance payout looked like and what it required. Prosecutors argued that this was not a coincidence. Their theory was built on two things working together, love and money.
Remove Rob Andrew from the picture and Brenda would be free to be with Povat. Remove Rob Andrew from the picture and the dispute over that $800,000 life insurance policy would resolve itself in the most permanent way possible. Court records detail the prosecution’s claim that the location itself was deliberately chosen. The garage was isolated.
Neighbors could not easily see inside and there was a practical reason for both Rob and Brenda to be in there together. The furnace pilot light needed to be lit. It was the perfect setting. The weapons told their own story. Rob was shot twice with a shotgun. Brenda was shot once in the arm with a .22 caliber round.
Prosecutors alleged that Brenda’s wound was not the result of an attack. They said it was staged, inflicted at close range to make her look like a victim. Then came the confession. James Povat admitted he pulled the trigger. He did not deny shooting Rob Andrew, but he said something else, something the prosecution refused to accept.
He insisted, clearly and directly, that Brenda had absolutely no involvement in planning or carrying out the murder. None. The prosecution dismissed that claim entirely and pushed forward with charges against them both. James Povat admitted he pulled the trigger. But then he said something the prosecution refused to accept.
And what he said about Brenda would become the center of one of the most disputed criminal cases in Oklahoma history. November 20th, 2001. It was an ordinary autumn evening in Oklahoma City, the kind of night that feels completely normal right up until it isn’t. Rob Andrew pulled up to the family home for a scheduled visit with his children. This was routine.
He and Brenda were separated, but Rob never stopped showing up for his kids. He came when he was supposed to. He always did. The children were inside the house. Whatever tension existed between Rob and Brenda that evening, there was still one small thing that needed to be done before he left with the kids. The furnace pilot light needed to be lit.
So, the two of them walked into the garage together. That was the last time Rob Andrew walked anywhere. Inside that garage, the situation changed in seconds. Rob was hit twice by a shotgun. The wounds were fatal. He collapsed. He had no way to fight back. He had no warning. One moment he was a father coming to pick up his children.
The next, he was on the floor of his garage dying. Brenda was also shot. Once in the arm with a .22 caliber round. She survived. When investigators arrived, Brenda told them what she said happened. She said two armed men had entered the garage and attacked them both. She said she did not know who they were.
She said it happened fast. First responders found Rob on the garage floor. He was critically wounded. Despite their efforts, Rob Andrew did not survive. His death was confirmed that night. His children, who had been waiting inside the house, had lost their father. Investigators logged Brenda’s account and began processing the scene.
But from early on, certain details did not sit right with them. The first was the wound on Brenda’s arm. A prosecution witness later testified that powder burns found on her shirt and skin indicated the shot was fired at close range. Not from across a garage by a random attacker. Up close.
Prosecutors argued this was not consistent with the story she told. The second was the blood. The prosecution claimed that blood stains on Brenda’s clothing came from Rob and that their position on her clothes told a story of proximity. However, DNA testing later directly challenged this claim. The science did not support the prosecution’s version.
But that updated evidence did not exist yet. Not during the original trial. James Pavatt later confessed to being the shooter. His location and movements that evening placed him within reach of that garage. The evidence from that garage would eventually be challenged by science, but by then a jury had already made up its mind, and the way they made it up had nothing to do with blood spatter.
Rob Andrew was dead. His children had lost their father, and the woman standing in that garage bleeding from her arm was about to become the prime suspect. In the hours and days after Rob Andrew’s death, people were watching Brenda closely, and what they saw made them uncomfortable. Court records show that Brenda’s lack of visible grief was noted repeatedly by witnesses throughout her trial.
Not once or twice, not even 10 times. Her demeanor, or what people described as the absence of tears, the absence of visible mourning, was brought up more than 30 times over the course of the entire trial. To those watching, something felt wrong. Then came the decision that would follow Brenda for the rest of her legal battles. Shortly after the murder, Brenda left the United States.
She packed up her children and traveled to Mexico, and James Pavatt went with them. To prosecutors, this looked like one thing only, guilty people running. To Brenda’s defense, it looked like something else entirely, a frightened woman already under suspicion, overwhelmed by pressure and fear, making a desperate and poorly judged decision.
She packed a suitcase for that trip. What was inside that suitcase would later become one of the most jaw-dropping moments in Oklahoma courtroom history. We will get to that. Back in Oklahoma, investigators turned their attention to the life insurance policy. They began examining whether any attempt had been made to access or claim the $800,000 benefit following Rob’s death.
The financial trail became part of the investigation. Rob’s family was devastated. Grief turned quickly to confusion, and then to suspicion. The church community in Enid and Oklahoma City was shaken. These were people who had known Brenda as a Sunday school teacher, a neighbor, a fellow believer. Now they were processing something they had no framework for.
Povat’s own movements after the murder were also tracked by investigators. His actions in the aftermath added to the picture being built around both of them. Eventually, Brenda returned to the United States. She surrendered to authorities and her children, already robbed of their father, now watched their mother’s world begin to collapse completely around them. Investigators did not waste time.
From the moment they arrived at that garage in Oklahoma City, they were asking one central question. Did the night happen the way Brenda said it did? Her story was straightforward. Two armed men had entered the garage and attacked both her and Rob without warning. She survived. Rob did not.
She did not know who the men were or why they came. Investigators tested that account against every piece of physical evidence they could find. The garage was processed carefully. Ballistic evidence was examined. Wound analysis was conducted and the results raised serious concerns. A prosecution witness testified that powder burns discovered on Brenda’s shirt and on her skin were not consistent with a shot fired from a distance.
The burns indicated the weapon had been fired at close range. That directly contradicted the idea of a stranger shooting at her from across a garage during a random attack. Then came the blood. Investigators examined the blood stains on Brenda’s clothing and argued that their pattern indicated she had been physically close to Rob at the moment he was shot.
Prosecutors would use this in court. However, and this matters, DNA testing conducted later would dispute this conclusion entirely. But that updated science was not available during the original investigation. Investigators searched for any trace of the two armed strangers Brenda described. They found none. No corroborating witnesses.
No suspects. No identifications. The story could not be confirmed by anyone or anything at the scene. Financial records were subpoenaed. The life insurance policy and the dispute over its beneficiary came under direct scrutiny. Investigators wanted to know whether any moves had been made toward claiming that money.
As Brenda’s romantic relationship with James Pavatt became known, he too came under the microscope. Investigators began mapping the full picture of who knew what and when. No arrests came immediately. The case was still being built piece by careful piece. Court records show that by this point, the investigation was no longer treating Brenda’s account as the truth.
It was treating it as a story that needed to be broken down. The dominoes were being lined up. It was only a matter of time before they started to fall. Then came the moment that broke the case wide open. James Pavatt confessed. >> [music] >> He admitted it directly. He was the one who pulled the trigger.
He shot Rob Andrew inside that garage on the evening of November 20th, 2001. He did not deny it. He did not try to run from it. But then he said something that stopped investigators in their tracks. He said Brenda had nothing to do with it. No planning, no knowledge, no involvement. According to Pavatt, she was not part of any conspiracy.
He alone was responsible for what happened to Rob that night. Prosecutors did not believe him. They looked at the full picture. The life insurance dispute worth $800,000. The deepening romantic relationship between Brenda and Pavatt. The isolated garage. The timing of Rob’s arrival. And the wound on Brenda’s arm that they believed was staged.
To them, none of it pointed to one person acting alone. James Pavatt was arrested and charged as the trigger man and co-conspirator. Brenda Andrew was arrested and charged with first-degree murder and conspiracy to commit murder. She maintained her innocence from the moment of her arrest. She has never stopped. The reaction across Oklahoma City and Enid was immediate.
For those who had grown suspicious after the Mexico trip and the weeks of unanswered questions, the arrests felt like confirmation. For others, especially those who knew Brenda through church, the news was almost impossible to process. A Sunday school teacher charged with murder. With both arrests made, the case now moved toward trial.
And what happened inside that courtroom would spark a legal controversy that would eventually reach the United States Supreme Court. The trial of Brenda Andrew began in Oklahoma County in 2004. She was charged with first-degree murder and conspiracy to commit murder. James Pavatt was tried separately. He was also convicted and sentenced to death, but it is what happened inside Brenda’s trial that legal experts are still talking about today.
The prosecution’s case against Brenda was built on circumstantial evidence. The insurance policy, the relationship with Pavatt, the garage, the wound. But rather than lead with that evidence, prosecutors made a different choice. They opened by calling former sexual partners to the stand. These witnesses were asked to describe, in detail, sexual encounters they had with Brenda, some of which had ended more than 17 years before the night Rob was killed.
Prosecutors also read aloud from Rob Andrew’s own journal, detailing an alleged relationship Brenda had while she was an unmarried college student, nearly two decades before the shooting. Male witnesses were called to describe what Brenda wore. One testified she had once worn a dress that was tight, short, and showed a lot of cleavage.
Others described her outfits as sexy and provocative. Her demeanor, specifically her lack of visible tears, was raised 15 times in a single day of testimony. Across the entire trial, it was referenced more than 30 times. A book found among Brenda’s possessions, titled 203 Ways to Drive a Man Wild in Bed, was admitted into evidence.
When her attorneys objected, prosecutors openly admitted the book was included to attack her character and questioned whether she was a good person and a good mother. In closing arguments, the prosecutor walked to the suitcase Brenda had taken to Mexico and opened it in front of the jury.
One by one, he pulled out her underwear, thong underwear, lace bras, and held each piece up before the jury. He asked, “Does a grieving widow pack this? And is this what a grieving widow wears?” Then he called her a [ __ ] puppy. The deliberations were set to begin within hours of those words leaving his mouth.
The prosecution pressed a female witness nine separate times about what a good mother would do and whether Brenda had failed that standard. In closing, they asked the jury, “Would a good mother allow her children to read murder mysteries with their father laying in his grave? And would a good mother take them out of school, have them eat tuna fish, and live on the beach?” The jury convicted Brenda Andrew on both counts.
She was sentenced to death. Oklahoma Court of Criminal Appeals Judge Arlene Johnson wrote a dissent that cut straight to the heart of the matter. She concluded that the evidence presented by the prosecution served no purpose other than to hammer home that Brenda Andrew is a bad wife, a bad mother, and a bad woman.
Judge Johnson would have reversed the death sentence, but the majority of male judges on the court disagreed. They called the prejudicial evidence harmless. Brenda’s legal team fought back through every available channel. The Oklahoma Court of Criminal Appeals upheld the conviction with Judge Johnson dissenting alone. The case moved to federal court.
The 10th Circuit Court of Appeals was divided, but ultimately denied relief, ruling that the legal precedent Brenda’s team cited did not clearly apply. Then, in January 2025, the United States Supreme Court stepped in. In a 7 to 2 decision, the court ruled that the 10th Circuit had been wrong. It ordered the Appeals Court to go back and properly evaluate whether the irrelevant gender-based evidence had been so unduly prejudicial as to render the trial fundamentally unfair.
It appeared to be a breakthrough, but in January 2026, the 10th Circuit again upheld the conviction, ruling that despite the improper evidence, the case against Brenda was strong enough to stand. Brenda’s defense team immediately filed a petition for rehearing. The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights reviewed the case and concluded there was a serious and urgent risk of irreparable harm to Brenda’s rights.
It called on the United States to halt any execution while the matter remained unresolved. The legal fight is not over, but time is not on Brenda Andrew’s side. Since 2004, Brenda Andrew has lived on death row. That is over two decades, more than 20 years inside the Mabel Bassett Correctional Center in Oklahoma.
For every single one of those years, she has been the only woman on death row in the entire state of Oklahoma. Not one other woman has joined her there. No execution date has been set, not yet. But waiting is its own kind of sentence. Days measured in court filings, years measured in appeals and denials, limited contact with the outside world, a life reduced to a cell, and a legal battle that never fully ends.
Through all of it, Brenda’s Christian faith has remained the one constant her supporters describe. Even from behind prison walls, she has continued writing, sending dozens of letters to family members going through difficult times. That detail is hard to square with the portrait the prosecution painted of her. Her legal team continues to fight.
A petition for rehearing was filed with the 10th Circuit following the January stopped insisting she is innocent. James Pavatt also remains on death row. No execution date has been set for him, either. Their children, Rob’s children, are now adults. Their entire lives have been shaped by what happened on November 20th, 2001.
The question the courts have never fully and cleanly answered still hangs in the air. Was this trial about what Brenda did or about who the prosecution decided she was? As of today, Brenda Andrew is still waiting. Oklahoma has never executed a woman. Whether she becomes the first may depend on whether courts decide justice was actually served in that 2004 courtroom.
Two children grew up without their father. They grew up with their mother on death row. Whatever the truth is about that November night in that Oklahoma City garage, those two facts are not in dispute. Rob Andrew’s children have carried this story in their bodies every single day since 2001. No verdict, no appeal, and no ruling has ever given them back what was taken.
The case of Brenda Andrew, now cited in legal scholarship as Andrew V. White, has permanently changed how courts must think about prejudicial evidence, gender bias, and what a fair trial actually means. A woman shaped by faith, community, and compassion condemned inside the very world that formed her. Whether Brenda Andrew is guilty of murder or guilty only of being a woman who did not grieve the right way, that question may never be fully answered, but it deserves to be asked.
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