In April of 1976, an anonymous call to a sheriff’s department in Maine alerted investigators to something almost impossible to imagine: a burning station wagon hidden off a remote road, and what looked like a body inside. What they found would open a case filled with contradictions. The victim was James Cassidy, a Massachusetts bank vice president, father of three, churchgoing family man, and by all accounts someone living a quiet, ordinary life. But in the days before his death, Jim had vanished across state lines, federal authorities were preparing to arrest him on embezzlement charges, and whispers of missing money, valuable stamps, and possible organized crime connections began to surface. Nearly fifty years later, his death remains unsolved.

On a fall morning in 1988, police in Nashua, New Hampshire walked into an apartment and found two women murdered in their bed. What followed seemed, at first, like a case that would never truly reach an ending. There were suspects, confessions, trials, and years of legal battles but no final resolution. For decades, the killings of Charlene Ranstrom and Brenda Warner lingered in the background, a file sitting quietly among other unsolved cases. But some investigations refuse to stay buried. Years later, new detectives took another look. With fresh eyes, new witnesses, and forensic technology that hadn’t existed when the crime was first investigated, the story began to change.

On a rainy night in late May 1989, a fire was spotted in a Westport, Connecticut parking lot. Within minutes, first responders realized the impossible: a body was burning in the open. Not long after and just a few miles away, a husband called police to report his wife missing. Her name was Joan Wertkin. From the outside, she was living an enviable life in one of Connecticut’s most idyllic towns. But as investigators traced her final hours, the case turned into something far more complicated – a tight timeline, a fraying relationship, a car left where it shouldn’t have been, and questions that still echo for her family.

On an August evening in 1982, children playing in Boston’s Franklin Park stumbled onto a scene that would quietly become one of the city’s most troubling unsolved cases. The victim was a 16-year-old girl who had already endured instability, displacement, and independence far beyond her years. Her murder received little attention at the time, but within months, rumors began to swirl: allegations of sexual assault inside a private police club, whispers of a cover-up, and a detective who refused to back down.

On a quiet Saturday night in 1931, a 19-year-old cattle dealer sat at his desk to write a check that he never got the chance to finish signing. Investigators were left with more questions than answers – a missing revolver, a name on a check no one could trace, and a household already tangled in rumor and tension. What followed was a shifting investigation, a contested admission, and a trial that forced a small New England city to confront issues of race, reputation, and reasonable doubt.

Before she vanished, April Grisanti was a young woman trying to find her footing. Then, over the course of one winter night in 1985, she disappeared in plain sight. Witnesses saw her struggle. Police heard her voice asking for help. And yet, April was never seen again. What followed has never felt like justice. No murder charge. No body. No answers. This is a story about incomplete justice, and about a family left carrying questions the investigation has never fully resolved. Over four decades later, the question still hangs in the air. Where is she?

In November of 1979, a man was found beaten to death along a quiet trail in a New Hampshire college town. Within a day, police had a suspect, but the case was hardly open and shut. The college student convicted of the murder – and the family who stood by him – were prepared to spend a lifetime fighting to prove his innocence. They believed the investigation narrowed too quickly, that key questions went unanswered, and that the truth had yet to fully surface. But before the courts could decide what came next, the Atlantic Ocean wrote the final chapter of this story.

What's it like to have your image used as the bait in thousands of online romance scams? This is what happened to Janessa Brazil—a cam girl whose image has been hijacked and used to con hundreds, maybe thousands, of lonely people out of hard-earned cash. This is a story of love, lies, and the faces behind a billion-dollar underground industry.

For more than forty years, Debra Stone’s murder lingered in the uneasy space between knowing and proving. An informant came forward early on with a story that, in hindsight, mapped almost every detail of what happened to her, yet the case drifted through the decades, weighed down by doubt, fear, and a single failed polygraph that stalled momentum. When investigators finally reopened the file in the 21st century, it wasn’t modern DNA science that brought clarity. The evidence had already been there. What the case needed was the will to look again and confront the truth that should have been acted on long ago.

In December of 2024, I shared an episode about a 24-year-old musician whose life was cut short in New Haven, Connecticut in 1990. More than three decades later, the murder of John Evers Robinson remains unsolved and the questions surrounding what happened to him have only grown more complicated with time. I’m bringing this story back because it needs your attention and action in a new way. Here’s John’s sister, Jocelyn Jackson. “It’s been 35 years since a family member picked me up from high school and told me as we drove to the airport that my brother John was dead. I immediately went silent and started crying. When we got to the airport, it was to hug my mom through tears before she got on a plane to fly to New Haven. All I could think was that my big brother wasn’t in the world anymore. That moment left an indelible mark on my perception of the world. That moment was the beginning of my instinct to never stop seeking for justice, to never let the people who did this think they got away with murder. Those feelings I felt on that day with my family are the eternal repository of energy that I pull from each year as I continue to invite accountability for my brother's brutal unsolved murder. Unfortunately, a lot of families know this feeling. The feeling of decades passing, sometimes even knowing who’s responsible, but never enough evidence to get resolution. Every year I actively continue the momentum of his case by sharing his story in a new way. This year it’s by starting a petition on change.org to increase the reward money for new leads from witnesses. We know a lot of time has passed, but over the last few years as we’ve talked to John’s friends and visited New Haven, we have experienced how fresh people’s memories are still of John, and of the time that he went missing, and then was found dead. We believe that there are people out there who know more and can share more than they ever have before. Please come forward and share what you know. The smallest detail combined with other new leads can be what either links all the other information together or alternatively, finally destabilizes the code of silence amongst the co-conspirators that’s been kept for all these years. Thank you for taking the time to sign this petition. Thank you for helping us keep the momentum strong. It’s heartbreaking to think how much more harm has been caused in these last 35 years by the same people who killed my brother. We believe my brother knew his killers. We finally want to know them, too.”