Ohio to EXECUTE Youngest Death Row Inmate,He Murd3red A Navy Recruit Days Before Enlistment.NO MERCY

 

A 19-year-old from Warren County, now the youngest person on death row in Ohio.  The idea that he has no worth or value as a human being, so better off euthanized.  For the brutal murder of a friend.  We have memories, but we will know. We will have no more with our son because of the choices that you made, Austin.

 And tonight, a bombshell was revealed in court. He wanted to kill. And that’s  two families in court. One to see justice carried out for their son’s death. the other one to beg for their son’s life to be spared. Good evening, I’m Sheree Paloo  and thanks for joining us. I’m Mike Dardis.

 WLWT News5’s Karen Johnson lives right now at the courthouse in Lebanon with new details from Austin Meyers sentencing. Karen  and Mike Austin Myers had another shot today. He asked the judge to spare his life. Last week, a Warren County jury recommended death for the 19-year-old. But at the official sentencing this afternoon, Judge Oda heard from Meyers as well as Justin Back’s family.

 Austin could have stopped it, but tells Justin, “It’s okay. It’s almost over. You could have changed your mind many times, but you didn’t.” Especially when Justin was begging for his life.  An 18-year-old Navy recruit begged his friends to stop choking and stabbing him. Instead, they continued with the brutal murder.

 I’m not going to stand up here and tell you how much I hate you. That is without question.  Today, Justin Bach’s parents didn’t hold back as they spoke to Austin Meyers, one of the teens who is now convicted of killing their son, Justin.  I would just hope that every time you close your eyes at night, you see my just my son Justin.

 Meyers himself had a few words for the judge.  No, I’ve made a horrible mistake. Uh I’m only 19 years old. But I think there’s a a lot of good things I can do with my life if you allow me to keep my life.  Judge Don Oda upheld the jury’s recommendation and sentenced Meyers to death.  On the afternoon of January 28th, 2014, two 19year-olds drove 40 miles from Clayton, Ohio to a quiet house on Corwin Road in Wesville.

 They carried with them a homemade grote built from a three-foot steel cable and two wooden cleats, a 6-in pocket knife, rubber gloves, ammonia, and septic enzymes designed to dissolve a human body. They had spent two full days planning what they were about to do. They had a shopping list. They had assigned roles. They had rehearsed the cleanup.

 The person who opened the front door and let them in was Justin Michael Back. He was 18 years old. He was a 2013 graduate of Wesville High School. He was less than two weeks away from reporting to the United States Navy. He had a mother who adored him, a stepfather who respected him, and friends who described him as the kind of person who could make anyone smile.

 He opened that door because the man standing on the other side was someone he had once called a friend. Austin Gregory Meyers had known Justin since the seventh grade. Justin had been the one who reached out to Meyers back then. The quiet tid, the loner, the one sitting by himself. Justin invited him to his lunch table.

 Justin looked out for him. Years later, Meyers repaid that kindness by targeting Justin’s family home for a robbery and deciding that Justin had to die so there would be no witness. Meyers distracted Justin in the kitchen while Timothy Mosley came up from behind with the Grode. When the wire caught on Justin’s chin instead of his neck, Mosley pulled out the knife and stabbed him repeatedly while Meyers held him down. Justin fought, he asked why.

 He begged them to stop. They did not stop. He died on the floor of his own kitchen from 21 stab wounds. While the two men he had led into his home stood over him. They wrapped his body in a blanket and put it in the trunk of a car. They stole a safe that Meyers believed held $20,000. It held 70.

 They drove the body to a remote field in Pree County, dumped it behind a log, poured chemicals over it, and Meyers fired two shots from a stolen handgun into Justin’s remains. Then he suggested they go back to Wesville and kill Justin’s stepfather, too. They never got the chance. A neighbor had noticed the car, a silver Chevrolet Cavalier with a plastic rear window held on by red duct tape.

 Within 24 hours, both men were in custody. Within 10 months, Austin Meyers was sentenced to death. He became the youngest person on Ohio’s death row at 19 years old. Timothy Mosley, the one who held the knife and delivered the fatal wounds, pleaded guilty and received life without parole. The case made national and international headlines.

 The BBC featured it in their documentary series Life and Death Row. Legal experts debated whether it was just to execute the planner while sparing the killer. The Ohio Supreme Court ruled unanimously 7 to zero that the person who designs a murder can be just as guilty as the person who carries it out. But to understand how a gifted student from a middle-class home in Ohio, a kid who took music lessons, who was treated for depression, whose parents’ divorce sent him spiraling, ended up homeless at 19, planning the murder of the one person who had shown him kindness when

no one else did. All for a safe that held less than the price of a pair of sneakers. We have to go back to the beginning. If you are the kind of person who wants the full story, not just the verdict, not just the sentence, but everything that happened before and after, then this channel is for you. Subscribe to No Way Out.

 Austin Gregory Meyers was born on January 4th, 1995 in Montgomery County, Ohio. He came into a family that, by most outward measures appeared to be middle class and stable. His parents were together during his earliest years, and the household had the kinds of things many families in suburban Ohio had.

 A decent home, steady income, and access to opportunities that many others in the criminal justice system never had. Meyers grew up in the Dayton Metropolitan area, a sprawling stretch of southwestern Ohio. His family lived in a community where people knew their neighbors. On the surface, nothing about Austin Meyers’s early years pointed toward the path he would eventually take.

 But beneath that surface, things were not as settled as they appeared. Meyers’s parents’ marriage was deteriorating. The household became a place of tension and conflict, and eventually the relationship between his mother and father broke apart entirely. The divorce hit the family hard, and it hit Austin harder than most people around him realized at the time.

 The circumstances surrounding the split were painful, and the fallout left marks on him that would follow him for years. After the divorce, Meyers’s mother worked to keep the family together and provide for her son. She was a loving and present parent who did what she could under difficult circumstances. Meyers was not abandoned or neglected in the traditional sense.

 He had a roof over his head, food on the table, and a mother who cared about his well-being. But the emotional damage from the broken home was real, and it began to show itself in ways that concerned the people around him. As Meyers moved through his early school years, he was recognized as being intelligent.

 Teachers noted that he was a gifted student, someone who had the capacity to do well academically. When he applied himself, he took music lessons, which suggested a household that valued enrichment and development. But intelligence and opportunity do not always translate into stability, especially when the emotional foundation underneath has cracks.

Meyers began to show behavioral issues as he got older. At some point during these years, Meyers began receiving medical and psychiatric care. His mother recognized that something was not right and took steps to get him help. He was treated for depression. Meyers attended school in the Wesville area during his middle school years.

 It was during seventh and eighth grade that he attended the same school as a boy named Justin Back. The two became friends during that period, spending time together the way many kids in smalltown Ohio did. They were part of the same social circles, knew the same people, and shared the kinds of experiences that come with growing up in a tight-knit community.

Justin Bach, by all accounts, was the kind of person who went out of his way to include others. He had a habit of reaching out to those who seemed isolated or out of place, inviting them to sit at his lunch table, making sure nobody felt left out. Austin Meyers, quiet and reserved as he was, was exactly the kind of person Justin gravitated toward.

 That friendship formed in the hallways and cafeterias of a small Ohio school would not last. Meyers’s life was about to shift again and the move that came next would take him away from Wesville and away from Justin back. The move took Meyers to Clayton, Ohio, a small city in Montgomery County about 40 mi northwest of Wesville.

 When Austin Meyers arrived in Clayton, Ohio, he was starting over. New town, new school, new faces. For a teenager already dealing with the aftermath of his parents’ divorce and ongoing mental health challenges, the transition was not easy. Clayton was a modest community within the Northmont school district, and Northmont High School became Meyers’s new daily reality.

 At Northmont, Meyers continued to demonstrate academic ability. He was not a failing student. He had the intellectual tools to succeed in a classroom setting. And there were moments when that potential was visible to teachers and peers. But the behavioral issues that had begun to surface earlier did not go away with the change of scenery.

 If anything, the upheaval of relocation added another layer of instability to an already fragile situation. Meyers’s depression persisted through his high school years. The psychiatric care he had received earlier continued in some form, but the details of his treatment during this period remained largely private. By the time Meyers finished at Northmont High School, his trajectory was unclear.

 He did not have a clear path forward in the way that some of his peers did. In the months that followed high school, Meyers’s situation deteriorated further. Whatever structure the school had provided, a daily schedule, a place to go, people to interact with, was gone. He was no longer a student with a routine.

 He was a young man in his late teens with no diploma-driven career path, no higher education plans, and no clear idea of what came next. Employment was inconsistent. Meyers moved between odd jobs and periods of unemployment. Never settling into anything stable. He would pick up work for a short time, then lose it or walk away.

 The pattern repeated itself over and over, a cycle of brief employment followed by stretches of nothing. Each time the gap between who he had been and who he was becoming, widened a little more. The gifted student his teachers had once noticed, was now a young man who could not hold down a job long enough to build any kind of foundation.

 Money was a constant problem. Without steady work, Meyers could not maintain a stable living situation. His circumstances became increasingly precarious, and at some point during this period, he lost his housing entirely. The homelessness was not the dramatic, visible kind that people associate with life on city streets.

 This was the quieter, more common version. couch surfing at friends houses, staying with acquaintances for a few nights at a time, wearing out his welcome in one place, and moving on to the next. It was an existence defined by dependence on other people’s generosity and by the constant low-level anxiety of not knowing where he would sleep next week or next month.

 For a young man already struggling with depression and the emotional residue of a fractured family, the instability compounded everything. It was during this period of drifting that Meyers began spending more time with people in the Clayton area who were in similar situations, young men without clear direction, without steady income, and without much to fill their days.

 One of those people was Timothy Mosley. Mosley was a few months older than Meyers, living in Clayton and occupying the same kind of aimless space. The two knew each other through mutual connections in the local social scene. The loose network of friends, acquaintances, and associates that forms naturally among young people in small communities where everyone is connected to everyone else by a degree or two.

Meyers and Mosley began spending time together regularly. They hung out at Mosley’s house, rode around in Mosley’s silver Chevrolet Cavalere, and passed time the way young men without jobs or responsibilities often did, talking, smoking, watching television, and filling the hours with whatever was available.

 The relationship was not deep in the way that long-term friendships are. It was more a product of proximity and circumstance. They were in the same place at the same time with the same lack of anything better to do. that was enough to bring them together. Meyers was the talker, the one with ideas, the one who brought energy and direction to their interactions.

 Mosley was quieter, more passive, the one who listened and went along. It was not that Mosley lacked the ability to think for himself, but in the context of his relationship with Meyers, he occupied the role of the follower. While Meyers’s day-to-day life had narrowed to the streets and couches of Clayton, his mind still held a map of his past. He remembered Wesville.

 He remembered the people he had known there, the houses he had visited, the neighborhoods he had walked through during middle school. Those memories were not nostalgic. They were practical. Meyers thought about Wesville not as a place he missed, but as a place where he knew things, where people lived, what they owned, how their homes were set up.

 One family in particular stayed lodged in his memory. The family of Justin Bach, his former middle school friend. Meyers knew that Justin still lived on Corwin Road with his mother Sandy, and his stepfather Mark Kates. He knew the house. He had been inside it years earlier back when he and Justin were spending time together in seventh and eighth grade.

 He knew the layout, the neighborhood, and the rhythms of the household. Most importantly, he knew, or believed he knew, that Mark Kates kept a safe inside the home. Kates worked as a corrections officer, a job that paid a steady wage, and Meyers had formed the impression over the years that Kate stored a significant amount of cash in that safe.

 The number that settled in Meyers’s mind was roughly $20,000. It was a figure that may have come from something he overheard years ago or from idol gossip among friends. The source of the number did not matter. What mattered was that Meyers believed it and that belief never faded. $20,000 for someone with a steady job and a stable life.

 It was a meaningful but not lifealtering sum. For Austin Meyers, homeless, unemployed, depressed, and watching the days blur together with nothing to show for any of them, it was a fortune. It was enough to change everything. Enough to get a place to live, to buy a car, to eat without worrying about where the next meal was coming from.

 In Meyers’s mind, that safe represented a way out of the hole he had fallen into. It was an escape hatch from a life that had shrunk to almost nothing. That piece of information sat in Meyers’s mind through the weeks and months of drifting. It was there when he lost another job. It was there when he slept on another couch.

 It was there on the night of January 26th, 2014 when he lay down to sleep at Timothy Mosley’s house in Clayton, knowing that the new job he was supposed to start the next morning was his latest chance to turn things around. and it was still there when he woke up on the morning of January 27th and realized he had overslept and missed the start of that job entirely.

 Rather than scrambling to salvage the employment opportunity, calling in, apologizing, asking for another chance, Meyers let it go. The pattern of lost jobs and missed opportunities had repeated itself so many times that this one barely registered as a setback. It was just another closed door in a hallway full of them.

 But on this particular morning, instead of sinking into the usual frustration and inaction, Meyers turned his attention to something that had been sitting in the back of his mind for months. He woke Mosley and asked him a question that would set everything in motion. Meyers wanted to know if Mosley was interested in making some money.

 Mosley said he was. It was a simple exchange, two words really, but it opened the door to a conversation that would end with the death of an innocent person. Meyers laid out two options. They could rob a drug dealer he knew, or they could target the home of Justin Bach’s stepfather, Mark Kates, in Wesville. Meyers explained that Kates had a safe in his house and that he believed the safe contained as much as $20,000.

He also mentioned that Kates kept a gun in the home. The information came from Meyers’s memory of the time he had spent near the Back family during middle school, combined with whatever he had picked up through casual conversation or observation over the years. Mosley listened. The drug dealer option was discussed briefly, but it was the Kate’s house that held Meyers’s attention.

 The two decided to drive to Wainesville that same day to check out the house. They got into Mosley Silver Chevrolet Cavalier and made the roughly 40 mile drive southeast from Clayton to Wayne Township. When they arrived at the Corwin Road home, they realized that Justin Back was home. With someone inside the house, a burglary would be too risky.

 They could not simply break in, take the safe, and leave without being seen or confronted. Rather than abandoning the plan entirely, Meyers and Mosley knocked on the door. Justin answered and let them in. Meyers introduced Mosley to Justin, and the three of them spent 15 to 20 minutes together inside the house, talking casually.

 Justin had no reason to be suspicious. Meyers was someone he knew from middle school, and the visit seemed like nothing more than an old acquaintance stopping by. During that visit, Meyers was paying attention. He was looking at the house, noting where things were, updating his mental map of the layout. He was sizing up the situation, calculating how they could get to the safe and get out.

 But with Justin there, the burglary could not happen that day. The two men left the house and got back into Mosley’s car. On the driveway from Wesville, the conversation took a turn. The problem was clear. Justin was home and as long as he was there, they could not take the safe without being identified. Someone who knew Meyers, someone who had seen his face and could connect him to the scene, was standing between them and the money they wanted.

 It was at this point Meyers proposed solution. They would not simply rob the house. They would kill Justin back first. With Justin out of the way, they could take the safe, clean up, and make it look like Justin had stolen the safe himself and run away. It was a plan that was both cold and calculated, designed not just to eliminate a witness, but to create a false narrative that would point investigators in the wrong direction.

Mosley did not object. He did not push back. The two men discussed methods. Meyers initially considered poison. They attempted to acquire materials that could be used to poison Justin, but that effort was unsuccessful. The idea was abandoned, and they moved on to another approach, strangulation. Meyers decided that they would strangle Justin with a wire, kill him quietly, and then take what they wanted from the house.

 They drove back to Mosley’s house in Clayton, where the planning continued. Mosley took out a small notebook and began writing down their ideas. a shopping list of sorts for the items they would need. As the evening of January 27th wore on, the plan solidified. They would return to Wainesville the next day. They would bring everything they needed, and they would kill Justin back for a safe full of money that, unbeknownst to either of them, contained almost nothing.

 The morning of January 28th, 2014 began with purpose for Austin Meyers and Timothy Mosley. The planning phase was over. Now it was time to execute what they had spent the previous day discussing and refining. Their first stop was a Lowe’s hardware store in Trotwood, Ohio, a suburb of Dayton. Meyers purchased a 3-ft length of galvanized steel cable and two metal rope cleats.

 These were not random items. They were the components of a gar, a strangulation device that Meyers intended to use to kill Justin back. Mosley later referred to it as a both. and the two men assembled it at Mosley’s house after returning from the store. The steel cable was attached to the wooden cleats which served as handles.

 When pulled tight around a person’s neck, the device was designed to cut off air flow and cause death by strangulation. After building the groyers and Mosley made additional purchases, they went to a store and bought septic enzymes, ammonia, septic tank cleaner, and rubber gloves. The septic enzymes were intended to help decompose Justin’s body after the killing.

 The ammonia and cleaning supplies were meant to destroy evidence at the crime scene. Blood, fingerprints, DNA, anything that could connect them to what they were about to do. The rubber gloves were basic precautions against leaving Prince. The shopping list that Mosley had written in his notebook the night before was being checked off item by item.

Every purchase was part of the plan. Every item had a purpose. This was not a robbery that spiraled out of control or a fight that went too far. This was a premeditated killing with a shopping list, a weapon, and a cleanup strategy. The plan itself had specific roles for each man.

 Meyers would go to the door and engage Justin in conversation, keeping him distracted and at ease. While Meyers occupied Justin’s attention, Mosley would come up from behind with the go and strangle him. Once Justin was dead, they would take the safe, let clean the scene, remove the body, and stage the house to make it look like Justin had stolen the safe and disappeared on his own.

 The idea of making it look like Justin had run away was a crucial element of the plan. By taking Justin’s clothing, his belongings, and the safe, they hoped to create the impression that Justin had left voluntarily. If the deception worked, his family might spend days or even weeks looking for him before anyone suspected foul play.

 That delay would give Meyers and Mosley time to open the safe, spend the money, and put distance between themselves and the crime. Mosley armed himself with the grot and also brought along a 6-in pocketk knife. The knife was a backup, a secondary weapon in case the strangulation did not go as planned. With the grot assembled, the supplies purchased, and the plan rehearsed, Meyers and Mosley loaded everything into the silver cavalere and prepared to make the drive back to Wesville. They put on the rubber gloves.

They brought the ammonia, the septic enzymes, and the cleaning materials. They had bags ready for removing evidence and belongings from the house. It was now approaching midday on January 28th, 2014. Justin Bach was at home on Corwin Road alone. His mother and stepfather were at work. He was less than two weeks away from reporting to the United States Navy.

 He had no reason to expect danger. He had no reason to be afraid. When the knock came at his door that afternoon, he opened it and saw a face he recognized from middle school. He let Austin Meyers and Timothy Mosley into his home without hesitation. It was the last decision Justin Back would ever make. Austin Meyers and Timothy Mosley arrived at the Corwin Road home at approximately 1 in the afternoon.

 Mosley parked his silver Cavalere in the carport, the car’s distinctive plastic covered rear window and red duct tape clearly visible to anyone who happened to look. Andrew Raymond, the next door neighbor, noticed the unfamiliar vehicle and saw someone coming out of the back door of the Kate’s residence.

 He did not recognize the person, but made a mental note of the car. Meyers walked to the front door and knocked. Justin back answered. He saw Meyers, someone he had known since middle school, someone who had been at his house just the day before, and let both men inside without alarm. The three of them sat in the living area and talked.

 The conversation was casual, ordinary, the kind of small talk that happens when acquaintances visit. Justin had no reason to be on guard. These were people who had been in his home less than 24 hours earlier, and nothing about their demeanor signaled what was about to happen. After some time, Justin got up and walked to the kitchen.

 He offered Meyers and Mosley something to drink and opened the refrigerator. This was the moment Meyers and Mosley had planned for. Justin was in the kitchen, his back partially turned, his attention on the fridge. It was the opening they needed. Mosley moved behind Justin. He had the grote in his hands, the steel cable with the wooden cleats that they had assembled that morning.

 As Justin bent toward the refrigerator, Mosley looped the wire over his head from behind and pulled it tight, attempting to strangle him. Justin reacted immediately. He fought back with everything he had. The struggle was intense and desperate. Meyers grabbed Justin from the front trying to hold him in place while Mosley pulled the grote from behind.

 The three men crashed to the kitchen floor in a tangle of bodies and limbs. Justin was strong and he was fighting for his life. He resisted with a force that neither Meyers nor Mosley had anticipated. During the struggle, Meyers realized that the gro had not landed where it was supposed to.

 Instead of wrapping around Justin’s neck, the wire had caught across his chin. It was not cutting off his airflow. It was not doing what it was designed to do. Meyers called out to Mosley, telling him that the wire was in the wrong position. Mosley, struggling to maintain control and unable to reposition the grot effectively, reached for the 6-in pocketk knife he had brought with him.

 He pulled it out and stabbed Justin in the back. Justin continued to fight. He was on the floor held down by Meyers being attacked from behind by Mosley and he was still resisting. He cried out. He asked why this was happening. He pleaded for them to stop. Meyers did not stop. He repositioned the Grode, pulling it tighter around Justin’s while Mosley continued to stab him.

 The attack continued until Justin stopped moving. The Montgomery County Coroner would later determine that Justin died from multiple stab wounds. The official count was 21 stab wounds inflicted during the struggle on the kitchen floor. Justin Michael Back, 18 years old, less than two weeks from leaving for the United States Navy, died on the kitchen floor of his family’s home at the hands of two men he had let through the front door.

The kitchen was covered in blood. The struggle had been violent and prolonged, and the physical evidence of what happened was everywhere. on the floor, on the walls, on the clothes of all three men. The clean, quick kill that Meyers and Mosley had planned had not gone according to script. What was supposed to be a silent strangulation had turned into a prolonged and brutal attack that left the scene far messier and far more difficult to conceal than they had imagined.

 With Justin back dead on the kitchen floor, Austin Meyers and Timothy Mosley turned their attention to the reason they had come in the first place, the safe. They searched the house and found it in a closet, but when they pulled it out, they discovered a problem they had not anticipated. The safe was locked, and they had no way to open it on the spot.

 Whatever was inside would have to wait until they could figure out how to crack it. Meyers also located a handgun belonging to Mark Kates elsewhere in the home. He picked it up and loaded it. With the safe in hand and the gun secured, Meyers and Mosley began the process of cleaning up the crime scene. They used the ammonia and cleaning supplies they had purchased that morning to scrub the blood from the kitchen floor.

 They wiped down surfaces, gathered bloody towels and rags, and attempted to erase the physical evidence of the attack. The cleanup was hurried and imperfect. They were working against the clock, aware that Sandy and Mark Kates would be coming home from work later that afternoon. They wrapped Justin’s body in a blanket and carried it out to the trunk of Mosley’s car.

Then they went back inside and ransacked the house, taking the locked safe, some jewelry, credit cards, and various personal items belonging to Justin. His clothing, headphones, glasses, laptop, computer, and phone charger. The idea was still to make it look like Justin had packed up his things, taken the safe, and left on his own.

 They stuffed bloody towels, rags, and rugs into garbage bags. They filled a laundry basket with Justin’s clothes and belongings. They loaded everything into Mosley’s car. By approximately 2:00 in the afternoon, roughly 1 hour after they had arrived, they left the Corwin Roadhouse. Mosley drove. As they pulled away from the neighborhood, he became paranoid.

 He was worried about being followed. Worried that someone had seen them, worried that the car, with its distinctive plastic rear window and red duct tape, had been noticed. He took side roads instead of main highways, winding through the rural landscape of Warren and Pribble counties. At one point, Mosley pulled over in a remote area to check the exterior of the car for blood.

 While Mosley inspected the vehicle, Meyers searched through the bags of Justin’s belongings and found his wallet. Inside was a little more than $100 in cash. Meyers took the money. They drove back to Mosley’s house in Clayton where they unloaded the items from the car. They carried the locked safe upstairs to Mosley’s bedroom. They changed out of their bloody clothes.

 The immediate crisis of the crime scene was behind them, but they still had a body in the trunk of the car that needed to be dealt with. Mosley knew the area around West Alexandria and the rural stretches of Prebble County. He suggested they dump the body in a remote location he was familiar with, a field near the village of Gratus, close to a place locals called Crybaby Bridge.

 It was isolated, wooded, and far enough from any main road that a body could go undiscovered for a significant period of time. They drove to the location. Mosley pulled the car into the field, stopping about 20 ft from a fallen log. The two men carried Justin’s body from the trunk and laid it on the ground behind the log.

 The body was still partially wrapped in the blanket and still clothed. Meyers then poured ammonia and septic enzymes over the corpse. The enzymes were intended to accelerate decomposition, to break down the biological evidence that could link them to the crime. It was a crude and ultimately ineffective strategy, but it reflected the level of planning that had gone into the coverup.

 Then Meyers took the handgun he had stolen from the Kate’s home and fired two shots into Justin’s body. The gun jammed on the third attempt. Meyers cleared the jam, ejecting the unfired bullet onto the ground where it landed in the dirt near the body. He did not pick it up. After disposing of the body, Meyers made a suggestion that revealed the depth of his thinking.

 He proposed that they go back to Wesville and kill Mark Kate’s Justin’s stepfather. The idea was to make it appear that Kate had murdered Justin and then fled. It would create a false suspect and divert attention away from Meyers and Mosley entirely. Mosley did not go along with that plan. Whether out of fear, exhaustion, or some remaining shred of conscience, he refused.

 The idea was dropped and the two men drove back to Clayton. They did not know it yet, but their window of freedom was already closing. Mark Kates arrived home from work at approximately 3:30 in the afternoon on January 28th, 2014. As he walked into the house on Corwin Road, something felt wrong. A table had been moved from its usual position.

 Some rugs were missing from the floor. The house had a disturbed quality to it, as though someone had been through the rooms and rearranged things in a hurry. Kate began checking the house more carefully. He discovered that his safe was gone from the closet where he kept it. His handgun was also missing. Items had been taken from various rooms, and the house showed signs of having been ransacked, though the cleanup effort by Meyers and Mosley had obscured some of the more obvious evidence of what had actually happened.

Sandy Kates arrived home shortly after her husband. Together, they tried to make sense of what they were seeing. The missing safe, the missing gun, the displaced furniture, and absent rugs. It all pointed to a burglary, but the scene was unusual. It did not look like a typical break-in.

 There were no broken windows, no forced doors. Whoever had been in the house had been led in. They tried to reach Justin. His cell phone rang inside the house. He had left it behind. Or more accurately, Meyers and Mosley had not taken it. The phone sitting on the counter while Justin was nowhere to be found was deeply alarming.

 An 18-year-old in 2014 did not go anywhere without his phone. Its presence in the house, combined with Justin’s absence and the signs of disturbance, told Sandy and Mark that something was seriously wrong. They called the Warren County Sheriff’s Office. Deputies responded to the Corwin Road address and began processing the scene.

 The initial report was a burglary, stolen safe, stolen firearm, missing items, but the missing person element changed the character of the investigation almost immediately. Justin Bach was not just absent. He was unreachable. His phone was at the house, and the circumstances of the burglary suggested something more than a simple property crime.

 As deputies examined the house, they began asking questions about who might have been at the residence recently. Mark Kates remembered something. The day before on January 27th, Austin Meyers had visited the house. Kates recalled the visit because Justin had mentioned it and because the car Meyers arrived in was hard to forget.

 A silver Chevrolet Cavalier with a plastic rear window held in place by red duct tape. That detail was immediately useful. The deputies now had a vehicle description linked to a named individual who had been at the house the day before the burglary. They put out a be on the lookout alert for the car, broadcasting the description to law enforcement agencies across the surrounding counties.

 The distinctive appearance of Mosley’s Cavalier, the very feature that Mosley had been paranoid about during the drive from the crime scene was now working against them. The alert went out to police departments in Montgomery County where Clayton was located. Officers in Clayton began looking for the vehicle.

 It did not take long. The Silver Cavalier was found parked at Timothy Mosley’s house, the same house where Meyers had been staying. Clayton police officers went to Mosley’s residence and detained Austin Meyers. They notified Warren County detectives that they had the person of interest and the vehicle in custody. The investigation was now moving at speed.

Less than 24 hours after Justin Bach’s murder, the man who had planned it was in police custody, but Meyers was not talking. Not yet. He had a story prepared, and he intended to stick to it for as long as he could. Warren County Sheriff’s detectives traveled to Clayton on January 29th, 2014 to interview Austin Meyers at the Clayton Police Station.

The setting was a standard interrogation room, a table, chairs, and a closed door that would eventually be opened and left open for the duration of the interview. Detective Wyatt, the lead investigator, was accompanied by Detective Barger. When Meyers arrived at the station, he was in handcuffs, having been detained by Clayton police.

 Detective Wyatt asked the Clayton officer to remove the cuffs, and they were taken off before Meyers entered the interview room. Meyers sat down at the table closer to the door than the detectives. The positioning was deliberate. Meyers was not physically blocked from leaving, and the door was eventually left open.

 Wyatt did not read Meyers his Miranda rights at the start of the interview. Instead, he told Meyers that he appreciated him coming down and that he was free to go at any time, that he was not under arrest. Meyers responded that he had been confused about the situation. The questioning began with the burglary at the Corwin Road house.

 The detectives asked Meyers about his visit on January 27th, about his relationship with Justin back, about whether he knew anything about the missing safe, the missing gun, and Justin’s disappearance. Meyers denied everything. He said he did not know anything about the burglary. He said he did not know where Justin was. He said he had no involvement in whatever had happened at the house.

 It was a flat denial delivered by a 19-year-old who was trying to maintain composure in front of experienced investigators. The detectives listened, asked follow-up questions, and probed for inconsistencies. Meyers held his ground, at least for the time being. After the initial interview, the detectives took Meyers back to Mosley’s house.

 They then brought Mosley to the Clayton police station for a separate interview. The decision to talk to the two men separately and sequentially was a standard investigative technique, get each person’s story independently, then compare the two accounts for contradictions and gaps. Mosley was questioned about the same events. The detectives asked about the car, about the visit to Wesville, about his relationship with Meyers, and with Justin back.

 What Mosley said during this interview would begin to crack the case open, though the full picture would not emerge all at once. After finishing with Mosley, the detectives brought him back to his house and then went back for both men. Based on what they had learned, the detectives had Clayton police officers arrest both Mosley and Meyers and returned them to the station.

The interviews resumed, but now the dynamic had shifted. The detectives had information they did not have before and they used it to apply pressure. Mosley in his second interview began to open up. He started providing details about the plan, the preparation, and the execution of the crime. His account was not complete at first.

 It came out in pieces with the detectives pulling information out through persistent questioning, but the story he told was consistent with the physical evidence and with the timeline that investigators were constructing. Meyers, confronted with the emerging picture, shifted his own story. He admitted that he had been present at the house when Mosley stabbed Justin back, but he framed himself as a bystander, not a planner.

 He said he had gone to visit Justin on January 28th and that he did not know Mosley was going to kill him. He said he did not know why Mosley had done it. He denied shooting Justin’s body, claiming that Mosley had been the one to fire the gun. There was a moment during the process that would later become significant in the legal proceedings.

Mosley and Meyers were placed in adjacent holding cells at the Clayton Police Station. Mosley overheard Meyers talking, implicating Mosley as the sole killer and denying his own involvement. Hearing Meyers blame everything on him while downplaying his own role affected Mosley’s willingness to cooperate. When the detectives came back to interview Mosley again, he gave a fuller and more detailed account, one that placed Meyers squarely at the center of the planning and execution of the crime.

The confessions gave investigators what they needed. They now knew that Justin Bach was dead. They knew the general location of the body and they had two suspects who had implicated each other in a premeditated murder. The search for Justin Bach’s body was about to begin. Armed with the information from the interrogations, investigators from the Warren County Sheriff’s Office and Priel County authorities organized a search of the rural area near Gratis, Ohio.

The location Mosley had described was a field near a place locals called Crybaby Bridge, a remote wooded stretch of countryside in Priel County, far from any residential area and well off the main roads. The search team found Justin Bach’s body behind a fallen log in the field.

 He was lying on the ground, still partially wrapped in a blanket and still clothed. His body was covered in a white powder. the septic enzymes that Meyers had poured over him in an attempt to accelerate decomposition. The chemicals had not had the effect Meyers intended. The cold January temperatures had slowed any biological processes and the body was largely intact.

 The scene was processed carefully by forensic teams. They documented the position of the body, the condition of the clothing and blanket, and the presence of the septic enzymes. They recovered the spent bullet casings from the two shots Meyers had fired into the body. They also found the unfired bullet that had been ejected when the gun jammed.

 The round that Meyers had cleared and left on the ground without picking up. Every item recovered from the scene was bagged, tagged, and cataloged as evidence. The body was transported to the Montgomery County Coroner’s Office for autopsy. The examination confirmed what the detectives already suspected. Justin Bach had died from multiple stab wounds.

The coroner documented 21 separate stab injuries consistent with a prolonged and violent attack. There were also injuries consistent with the strangulation attempt marks on the neck and chin from the steel cable gro. The two gunshot wounds were identified as post-mortem inflicted after Justin was already dead.

The autopsy results painted a picture that was consistent with both Mosley’s account and the physical evidence recovered from the crime scene. The cause of death was clear, the method of attack was documented, and the timeline of injuries, strangulation attempt, stabbing, and postmortem gunshots aligned with what the detectives had been told during the interrogations.

Meanwhile, investigators continued to process the Corwin Road house. Despite the cleanup efforts by Meyers and Mosley, traces of blood were found throughout the kitchen, on the floor, in the crevices and seams where the ammonia had not reached. Human blood was also detected in the living room. The cleaning had been thorough enough to deceive the naked eye upon initial inspection, but forensic analysis revealed what the ammonia and scrubbing could not fully erase.

The stolen items were recovered from Mosley’s house in Clayton. The safe was found in Mosley’s bedroom. When investigators opened it, they discovered that it contained approximately $70. The 20,000 that Meyers had imagined was nothing more than a fantasy. A young man had died, and two others had destroyed their lives for a safe that held less than the cost of a decent meal for two.

The jewelry, credit cards, and personal belongings that Meyers and Mosley had taken from the house were also recovered. Justin’s clothing, which they had bagged up as part of the stage disappearance, was found at Mosley’s residence. The handgun stolen from the Kate’s home, was accounted for.

 The grot, the steel cable with wooden cleats, was recovered as well, along with the remnants of the cleaning supplies, the ammonia bottles, and the rubber gloves. The physical evidence was overwhelming. The confessions, the recovered items, the forensic analysis of the crime scene, the autopsy findings, and the body’s location all formed a cohesive and damning picture.

 The case against Austin Meyers and Timothy Mosley was building rapidly. And by the time the forensic work was complete, prosecutors had more than enough to move forward with charges. In Wesville, the news of Justin’s death spread through the community with the force of a shock wave. Neighbors, classmates, friends, and family members struggled to process what had happened.

 Justin, the young man who had been days away from joining the Navy, who had befriended the lonely and looked out for the overlooked, was gone. Taken from his own kitchen by someone he had once called a friend. Sandy Kates, Justin’s mother, would later describe the devastation in terms that needed no embellishment. Her son was dead.

 The house where it happened was the same house where she and Mark still lived. And the young man who had planned it all was someone her son had once tried to help. Austin Meyers and Timothy Mosley were formally charged in Warren County, Ohio in connection with the murder of Justin Beck. The indictments were extensive reflecting the multiple dimensions of the crime and the numerous offenses committed before, during, and after the killing.

 Austin Meyers was indicted on nine counts. The most serious charges were aggravated murder with prior calculation and design and aggravated murder during the commission of a felony. Each of these counts carried three death penalty specifications, meaning that prosecutors were seeking the ultimate punishment. Beyond the murder charges, Meyers faced counts of kidnapping, aggravated robbery, aggravated burglary, grand theft of a firearm, tampering with evidence, safe cracking, and abuse of a corpse.

 The tampering charge related to the cleanup of the crime scene, and the disposal of evidence. The abuse of a corpse charge stemmed from the shots Meyers fired into Justin’s body after he was already dead and the chemicals he poured over the remains. Timothy Mosley faced similar charges.

 He was also indicted for aggravated murder and the associated offenses. Both men were looking at the possibility of the death penalty and both were held without bond as the case moved toward trial. The Warren County Prosecutor’s Office, led by David Fornhell, handled the case directly. Meyers was appointed defense council by the court as he was declared indigent and unable to afford private representation.

 His attorneys were Greg Howard and John Caspar, experienced criminal defense lawyers who would represent him through the trial phase. Their task was significant. The evidence against Meyers was substantial. The confessions were damaging and the premeditated nature of the crime made it difficult to argue that the killing was anything other than a calculated decision.

Mosley’s family hired a private attorney, Dennis Lieberman, to represent him. The decision to retain private counsel would prove consequential in the months ahead as Lieberman navigated the legal strategy that would ultimately separate Mosley’s fate from that of his codefendant. In the weeks following the indictments, both defendants were held at the Warren County Jail.

Pre-trial hearings began and the legal machinery of a capital case started to turn. Discovery was exchanged, motions were filed, and the prosecution began building its case using the physical evidence, the forensic analysis, and the statements both defendants had made to investigators. In the months leading up to the trial, Timothy Mosley’s legal team engaged in negotiations with the Warren County Prosecutor’s Office.

 The subject of those negotiations was a plea agreement. A deal that if reached would remove the death penalty from Mosley’s possible sentencing outcomes in exchange for his cooperation as a witness against Austin Meyers. For prosecutors, the calculation was straightforward. They had evidence against both defendants.

 But the case against Meyers, the planner, the instigator, the person who had conceived the idea and directed the execution, required testimony that could fill in the gaps left by physical evidence alone. Mosley had been present for every stage of the crime, from the initial conversation on January 27th through the disposal of the body on January 28th.

His firsthand account could provide the narrative thread that tied all the evidence together into a coherent and compelling story for a jury. For Mosley, the calculation was equally clear. He was facing the death penalty for a crime that involved 21 stab wounds and a grot. The evidence against him was strong, and the prospects of a quiddle were slim.

 A plea agreement that took execution off the table in exchange for truthful testimony was, in the cold arithmetic of criminal defense, a deal worth taking. The negotiations concluded shortly before the start of Meyers’s trial. Mosley agreed to plead guilty to the charges against him and to accept a sentence of life in prison without the possibility of parole.

 In exchange, he would testify against Austin Meyers, providing the jury with a detailed first-person account of the planning, preparation, and commission of Justin Bach’s murder. The timing of the plea deal became a significant issue in the case. Meyers’s defense attorneys argued that they were not given adequate notice that Mosley would be testifying as a prosecution witness.

They contended that the late disclosure of Mosley’s role as a witness and the journal notebook that Mosley had written their plans in prejudiced their ability to prepare for trial. The prosecution responded that they had informed the defense as soon as the plea deal was finalized and that the defense had access to Mosley’s earlier recorded statements to police.

 The plea deal set the stage for one of the most contentious aspects of the case, the sentencing disparity between the two defendants. Mosley, who had physically stabbed Justin back to death, would serve life without parole. Meyers, who had planned the crime but had not held the knife, would face the possibility of execution.

 Whether that disparity was just or unjust would become the central question of Meyers’s appeal and one of the defining issues of the case as a whole. On November 14th, 2014, Mosley was formally sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. He was sent to London Correctional Institution in Ohio to begin serving his sentence.

 His cooperation with prosecutors was complete and his legal journey, at least at the trial level, was over. For Austin Meyers, the trial was just beginning. The trial of Austin Meyers began in October 2014 in Warren County common please court presided over by Judge Donald Oda I V 6th. The courtroom in Lebanon, Ohio, the Warren County seat became the setting for a case that had drawn attention far beyond the borders of the community where the crime took place.

 The prosecution’s strategy was to present Meyers not as a secondary participant but as the mastermind. Fornshell argued that Meyers was the instigator and architect of the murder, the person without whom the crime would never have occurred. He had chosen the target. He had designed the plan. He had set everything in motion. The evidence presented during the trial was extensive.

 Prosecutors introduced the physical items recovered from Mosley’s house and from the dump site in Priel County. the grot, the stolen safe, the handgun, the personal belongings, the septic enzymes. Mosley’s testimony was a centerpiece of the prosecution’s case. Taking the stand as part of his plea agreement, Mosley walked the jury through the entire sequence of events.

From the morning of January 27th when Meyers proposed the robbery through the construction of the Gro, the drive to Wesville, the attack on Justin in the kitchen, the disposal of the body, and the events that followed. Mosley’s account placed Meyers at the center of every major decision. Meyers had suggested the robbery.

 Meyers had proposed killing Justin when they realized he was home. Meyers had purchased the Gro components. Meyers had told Mosley that the wire was on Justin’s chin during the struggle. Meyers had poured chemicals on the body. Meyers had fired shots into the corpse, and Meyers had suggested going back to kill Mark Kates.

The defense team, led by Greg Howard and John Caspar, faced an uphill battle. The physical evidence was strong, the confessions were damaging, and Mosley’s testimony provided a detailed narrative that tied everything together. The defense strategy focused on challenging the credibility of Mosley’s testimony, arguing that Mosley had every incentive to shift blame onto Meyers in order to benefit from his plea deal and on emphasizing that Mosley, not Meyers, had actually killed Justin back.

 The defense called no witnesses during the guilt phase of the trial. It was a strategic decision that reflected the difficulty of the case. There was no alibi to present, no alternative suspect to suggest, and no credible way to argue that Meyers had not been involved. The defense’s best argument was not that Meyers was innocent, but that his role was less culpable than the prosecution claimed.

 The jury deliberated and returned guilty verdicts on all counts and all specifications. Austin Meyers was convicted of aggravated murder with prior calculation and design, aggravated murder during the commission of a felony, kidnapping, aggravated robbery, aggravated burglary, grand theft of a firearm, tampering with evidence, safe cracking, and abuse of a corpse.

 The guilty verdicts triggered the penalty phase of the trial. The penalty phase was where the jury had to decide if Meyers should live or die. Forshell walked them through everything. Myers had done. The defense tried to save Me Myers’s life. They told the jury he was only 19, that he suffered from depression, that he had been in psychiatric care, that his parents’ divorce had damaged him, and that he had never been in trouble with the law before.

 His mother got on the stand and begged the jury to let her son live. Meyers himself spoke to the jury. He said he was sorry. He said he wished he could go back and stop it. He said he knew nothing he could say would bring Justin back. Prosecutors told the jury not to buy it. They reminded them that Meyers had lied to detectives, blamed everything on Mosley, never once took responsibility, and had even planned to kill again.

 The apology only came when he was sitting in front of the people who would decide if he lived or died. It was too little, too late. The jury chose death. Judge Oda made it official on October 16th, 2014. He told the courtroom that without Austin Meyers, he did not believe Timothy Mosley would have ever killed anyone. Meyers was the reason Justin Bach was dead.

 At 19 years old, Austin Meyers became the youngest person on death row in Ohio. Meyers’s death sentence automatically went to the Ohio Supreme Court for review. His appellet lawyers Timothy McKenna and Roger Kirk raised 18 arguments against the conviction and sentence. Oral arguments were heard on December 5th, 2017 in Columbus with prosecutor Fornshell personally arguing for the state.

The defense pushed three main points. First, the sentencing disparity. Mosley stabbed Justin 21 times and got life, while Meyers never touched the knife and got death. They called it patently unfair. Second, Meyers’s age. He was only 19 and brain science shows the human brain does not fully mature until the mid20s.

 They argued the legal cutoff at 18 was an arbitrary line. Third, procedural problems. They said the prosecution waited too long to tell them Mosley would be testifying and to hand over Mosley’s planning notebook. Fornshell pushed back on everything. On the disparity, he said Ohio law compared death sentences to other death penalty cases, not between codefendants.

 On youth, he pointed to the two days of careful planning and said there was nothing impulsive about what Meyers did. On the late disclosure, he said the defense had been notified as soon as the deal was finalized. On May 17th, 2018, the court ruled unanimously 7 to zero, upholding the conviction and the death sentence.

Justice DeWine wrote the 60-page opinion. The court found that the person who plans a murder can be just as guilty as the person who carries it out. On Meyers’s age, the court said it had given death sentences to other 19year-olds and that Meyers did not have a condition that made execution unconstitutional.

On his background, DeWine wrote that Meyers came from a broken home, but had a loving family, a middle-class upbringing, music lessons, and academic talent. Advantages most death row inmates never had. The court set the execution for July 20th, 2022. Meyers’s lawyers filed a motion asking the court to reconsider.

 On August 1st, 2018, Chief Justice Okconor denied it. The direct appeal was over. The case then shifted to postconviction proceedings. In 2016, the Ohio Public Defenders Office had filed a petition arguing that Meyers’s trial lawyers failed him during the penalty phase. The specific claim was that they should have brought in experts on adolescent brain development to explain how a 19-year-old brain is still maturing, especially in the areas that control decision-making and impulse control.

 If the jury had heard that testimony, the argument went, “They might have chosen life over death.” The Warren County Trial Court dismissed the petition. But in March 2021, the 12th District Court of Appeals reversed that decision and sent the case back for a hearing. The appeals court said changes in Ohio’s postconviction laws meant Meyers deserved a chance to present this evidence.

 Prosecutor Fornshell said the ruling was limited. It was not a new trial, just a narrow hearing on whether the brain development testimony should have been part of the original case. New attorneys Parker and Sweeney were appointed to represent Meyers. They began preparing experts to evaluate his neurological development at the time of the crime.

 In July 2021, they filed to keep the state of execution in place while the postconviction process continued. By 2023, they were still filing motions and requesting resources for the next stage of appeals. Meyers remained unable to afford his own lawyers. The question of youth has been at the heart of the case from the beginning. The US Supreme Court banned executing anyone for crimes committed before 18.

Meyers was 19 years and 24 days old when Justin was killed, just barely past that line. Brain science shows the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain that handles decision-m and impulse control, does not fully develop until the mid20s. At 19, those systems are still growing. Meyers’s lawyers argued this science should matter.

 The Ohio Supreme Court disagreed, saying the level of planning in this crime showed Meyers understood exactly what he was doing, regardless of his age. But the postconviction proceedings have brought the argument back in a new form. If experts had explained all of this to the jury during the penalty phase, the outcome might have been different.

 That question has not yet been answered. Austin Gregory Meyers is currently 31 years old. He has spent more than a decade in the Ohio prison system, most of it on death row. He is presently housed at Ross Correctional Institution where he remains under a sentence of death for the aggravated murder of Justin Back. His execution was originally scheduled for July 20th, 2022, but that date has been stayed pending the resolution of his postconviction appeals.

 The postconviction process has moved through multiple stages. the initial petition in the Warren County Common Please Court, the appeal to the 12th District Court of Appeals, the remand for an evidentiary hearing, and additional filings with the Ohio Supreme Court. As of the most recent court records, the case continues to move through the system with the specific question of whether trial council was ineffective for failing to present expert testimony on adolescent brain development still unresolved.

Meyers has been represented throughout the postconviction process by attorneys appointed by the court consistent with his status as an indigent defendant. His legal team has argued that the issues in his case are significant and that the proceedings are far from being completed. No new execution date has been set.

 Ohio’s broader approach to capital punishment has also been a factor in Meyers’s case. The state has not carried out an execution since 2018. and the availability of lethal injection drugs has been a persistent issue in Ohio’s death penalty administration. The practical reality is that even if Meyers’s appeals were ultimately unsuccessful, the timeline for an actual execution would depend on factors beyond the specifics of his case, including the state’s ability and willingness to carry out the sentence.

 That said, having covered hundreds of death row cases on this channel, the patterns are difficult to ignore. When the conviction is solid, when the evidence is overwhelming, when the highest court in the state has ruled unanimously, and when the crime involved this level of premeditation and planning, the odds shift heavily toward execution.

Appeals can delay the process for years, sometimes decades, but they rarely reverse a death sentence that has survived every level of judicial review with the kind of certainty this one has. The 7 to0 ruling from the Ohio Supreme Court left no room for doubt about how that court viewed the case. The postconviction arguments about brain development and ineffective counsel may buy time, but they face an uphill battle against a record that shows two full days of planning, a homemade weapon, a shopping list of supplies, and a cover

up that included shooting the victim’s body, and suggesting a second murder. Courts tend to look at those facts and conclude that this was not a young man acting on impulse. Based on everything we have seen across the cases we have covered, the chances are high that Austin Meyers will eventually be executed.

Timothy Edward Mosley is currently serving his sentence of life in prison without the possibility of parole. He is housed at London Correctional Institution in Ohio. Now 31 years old as well, Mosley will spend the rest of his life behind bars. His cooperation with prosecutors secured him a sentence that while severe spared him from death row.

He has not been a public figure since his sentencing and has not made public statements about the case. The Kate’s family remains in Wesville. Sandy and Mark Kates still live in the house on Corwin Road where Justin was killed. Sandy has continued her advocacy work maintaining the remembering Justin back Facebook page and supporting legislative efforts related to criminal sentencing in Ohio.

 The Justin Back be a hero 5K runwalk has continued as an annual community event keeping Justin’s memory alive and raising awareness about the impact of violent crime. Justin’s Law, the proposed legislation Sandy championed to increase mandatory minimum sentences for aggravated murder, passed the Ohio House of Representatives in 2016. The bill’s progress through the state legislature represented a tangible legacy of Justin’s death and his mother’s determination to create something positive out of unspeakable loss. The Warren County Prosecutor’s

Office under David Fornshell has continued to push the case forward at each stage of the appeals process. Fornshell has stated publicly that he views Meyers as the most culpable party in the murder and that the death sentence was justified by the evidence and the law. If this case moved you, if it made you think, if it raised questions you did not have before you pressed play, then we have done our job.

This channel exists to go deeper than the headlines, to tell the full story behind every case, and to make sure the people at the center of these stories are not forgotten. If you are new here, this is what we do. We cover death row cases from beginning to end. No shortcuts, no sensationalism, just the facts and the people behind them.

 If you want to stay with us and follow these cases as we release them, hit that subscribe button and turn on notifications so you never miss a new documentary. Share this video with someone who needs to hear this story. Leave a comment and tell us what you think about the sentencing disparity, about the question of youth, about whether justice was served in this case.

This has been No Way Out. We will see you in the next

 

Disclaimer: This story is fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. Any names, characters, places, or events are fictitious or used fictitiously. No real person or organization is intended to be portrayed.

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