The True Story Behind Love & Death: The Murder of Betty Gore Part 3

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Welcome back to part 3 of the true story behind the Love & Death series on Max. In last week's episode, we discussed the affair of Candy and Allan, the beginning and end. We left off with them parting ways and really trying to work on their marriages. In this week's episode, we'll be diving into the tragedy that took place from the actions of infidelity. I will put a warning here that this episode will be graphic and not suitable for all audiences; we will be discussing the murder and details about the events leading up to and following the event.

As a working mother of two, Betty had a lot on her plate, but what really put a strain on her life was the postpartum depression she suffered after giving birth to her second daughter in 1979. She didn’t want to be alone even for a single night, which meant that when Allan had to travel out of town to St. Paul, Minnesota for a weekend for work in the summer of 1980, Betty wasn’t happy. This, combined with his wife’s usual routine of keeping their girls busy, is why Allan initially did not worry when his wife didn’t pick up his expected call from the airport on June 13, 1980.

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Part 3

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Welcome back to part 3 of the true story behind the Love & Death series on Max. In last week's episode we discussed the affair of Candy and Allan, the beginning, and end. We left off with them parting ways and really trying to work on their marriages. In this week's episode we'll be diving into the tragedy that took place from the actions of infidelity. I will put a warning here that this episode will be graphic and not suitable for all audiences, we will be discussing the murder and details about the events leading up to and following the event.

Once, Allan went on one such trip, and Betty had an affair with a young boy. Her action hurt Allan, but what made him more concerned was that she had indulged only because she wanted to teach Allan a lesson and make him feel insecure. She wanted Allan to repent of his actions, but why would any man have anything to be sorry about going on a business trip if he was not doing any activity that could be wrong. Betty suffered from severe postpartum depression, and after the birth of her second child, she just didn’t want to go through the entire ordeal again. Things were slowly getting better between Betty and Allan when the latter left town for a work trip once again, so Allan was trying to not worry too much about the fact that Betty was not answering the phone.

Candy was at the church with her children and Lisa Betty and Allen's daughter who had spent the night at their house that day. Candy was talking with the other church ladies when her daughter asked if Lisa could go to the movies with them that night to see the new Star wars. Candy didn't mind at all but knew that if Lisa was going to be joining them that she would have to ask Betty and pick up her swimsuit from their house as Lisa had swim lessons that evening. The children were in bible study, Candy decided that she would go to the Gore house real fast to pick up Lisa’s suit and ask Betty if it was okay for her to go to the movies with them and stay the night. When Candy arrived at the Gore house she walked up and knocked on the door, Betty opened the door a little shattered but let Candy in the home. They chatted calmly for some time, about different topics and as Candy was preparing to leave, Betty asked her, “Candy, are you having an affair with Allan?” “No, of course not,” Candy said. “But you did, didn’t you?” Not sure what to say Candy confessed to and told Betty that the infidelity happened a “long time ago and that it was over'' Betty left the room and entered the utility room returning with an ax. “I don’t ever want you to see him again. You can’t have him,” Betty said. “Betty, don’t be ridiculous. It was over a long time ago.” Betty left the ax against the wall, starting to calm down and as the room started to feel less tense Candy picked up Alisa’s swimsuit to leave, Candy reached out and put her hand on Betty’s arm and said, ‘I’m so sorry.'” That sentence triggered Betty: she pushed her into the utility room, picked up the ax again, and said, “You can’t have him, you can’t have him. I’ve got to kill you.” Betty started hitting Candy’s head. Candy managed to avoid being hit seriously, and she took the ax from her hands and used the blade on Betty in self-defense before her friend could attack her again she hit Betty. In terror that she had killed Betty, Candy tried to leave the room, but before she could do so, Betty stopped her by slamming her body against the door. Candy pleaded for her life, and in response, Betty shushed her and then something in Candy snapped, and she wrestled the ax from Betty and started swinging. Betty wouldn’t stay down, so Candy swung it again, and again, and again. In shock of what just happened Candy got in the shower leaving bloody hand prints around the house and rinsed the blood off herself. The toe on Candy’s left foot was bleeding profusely. Candy stared at it and fished in her purse for the keys to the station wagon. Candy spoke to herself “now you’re in the car. You’re normal. The car is still here. Everything looks the same.” Candy was trying to go through the motions unsure of what to do. She took one step at a time, just doing one thing at a time. She was telling herself “Don’t think about the house.” She stared down the main street of Wylie and imagined that her car was not moving at all. She glanced down at her lap and felt a sudden chill in her legs. Her blue jeans were soaked with water. The antiseptic smell of fabric softener flooded her nostrils, and for a moment she thought she would be sick. “Why am I wet? That smell. Can’t panic. Normal. Left, right. Why won’t the car go faster?”. After a while she pulled back onto FM Road 1378 and continued north past an old church and a red schoolhouse. Once Candy arrived at her home her station wagon nosed into the double garage and stopped. Candy knew that she needed to get out of these clothes. She ran upstairs, stripping off her blouse and blue jeans as she entered the bedroom. She wiped the blood from her third toe and wrapped a Band-Aid tightly around it, flinching as she felt how deep the cut was. I did it on the storm door she told herself. She took her shirt into the kitchen and placed it in the sink. She poured the detergent and turned on the water. She left the blouse soaking in the sink and went upstairs to find a pair of blue jeans the same shade as the ones she had just taken off. She took a quick shower and washed her hair. And as she did she noticed an open cut at the hairline on the right side of her forehead. She dried her hair with a towel and then went to get another Band-Aid. But the springy hair around the wound kept the bandage from sticking.

Finally, she gave up, wrung out her blouse, put on the new blue jeans, threw the old ones in the washer, and waited while the dryer dried her blouse. The last thing she did was replace her rubber sandals with a pair of blue tennis shoes. She laced them up tightly to keep pressure on the toe bandage and left her home to head back to the church.

The children’s puppet show in the sanctuary ended when Candy pulled into the parking lot. She caught up with a friend who was going in to join the other women for lunch. “Oh Barbara,” Candy said breathlessly. “I went down to Betty’s and we just got to talking, and then I looked at my watch and thought I had time to go to Target and get Father’s Day cards and I drove all the way to Plano. But then when I got there I realized my watch had stopped and I was late, so I didn’t even go in. We’re taking Alisa with us tonight to see The Empire Strikes Back. That reminds me, I’d better go check on the kids.” As Candy headed for a classroom, it crossed her mind that she might be limping. She made a special effort to walk straight. In an empty room she found a mirror and dabbed at the cut near her hairline. Even after the blood had been stanched, she could feel it running down her forehead. As Candy was walking to the classroom one of the women noticed something odd. Candy, who always wore rubber sandals in the summer, was wearing a pair of blue tennis shoes.

The afternoon passed in a fog. Candy bundled the three children into the station wagon. They were an odd comfort. At home, after she told Lisa to get ready for her swimming lesson, while Candy phoned Pat at work.“Pat, we just got home from Bible school and wanted to be sure you got enough money at the bank, because Alisa is going to the movie with us. The kids nagged about it after you left this morning, and so I promised them I’d ask Betty if Alisa could stay another night. But then I had to go to Betty’s to pick up Alisa’s swimsuit and we got to talking and I lost track of time, and then when I went to Target I noticed my watch had stopped and I missed the whole Bible school program.” “Uh-huh,” said Pat. He had just returned from a Texas Instruments office picnic and was anxious to make some computer runs. “Betty said Alisa could spend the night.” “Listen, honey, that’s fine with me. I’m about to go to the bank now.” “Pat, would you happen to know where Allan is working today?” “Allan Gore? No. Why?” “It’s not important. We’ll meet you in the parking lot about fifteen of five.” Pat hung up and thought, “What was that all about?” but Pat continued with his day.

At 410 Dogwood Street, the home of Allan and Betty Gore, their two children, and their two cocker spaniels, no one came or went on the afternoon of June 13, 1980. The phone rang and rang but wasn’t answered. Around noon a delivery man for a parcel service rang the doorbell but got no response. Around 4pm Allan Gore called from the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport, where he was about to board a plane for his business trip and it rang ten or eleven rings, before he hung up. The only sign that the house was occupied at all was the muffled sound from within of a baby crying at the top of her lungs.Behind the house the two dogs skittered nervously around the yard, howling and whimpering as if they were confused or perhaps frightened.

Candy’s son talked excitedly about Star Wars, but Candy wasn't listening. She and the children sat in the expansive parking lot at Texas Instruments, with the windows of the station wagon rolled down to alleviate the heat of summer, and waited for Pat’s conference to break up so they could go to the movies. The children were talking in the backseat and out of nowhere Candy heard the name: “Bethany.” Candy didn’t know what the children were discussing, probably something about brothers and sisters but she heard Alisa say her baby sister’s name, and suddenly Candy’s body tensed all over. The sense of dread rushed back. With it came the strong aroma of something soft and clean, it tickled the nose and infused the sinuses.

Allan Gore had left for St. Paul late that afternoon. Back in September, when he left Rockwell International to join a new exciting company in Richardson, he had known he would have to work long hours, but he tried to avoid working on weekends. This time Allan and two of his colleagues had to be in Minnesota over the weekend to make sure one of their largest clients had a fully functional message-switching system by next week. But Allan wasn’t enjoying this particular trip, and for a familiar reason. Betty couldn’t stand to be left alone, even for one night. This trip would be easier on her because of the vacation they were planning. A week from now they will be in Europe, without the children for the first time in four years, and last night she had been positively radiant, describing the upcoming trip as a second honeymoon. Then this morning she had broken down again, but she and Allan had a good talk and parted happily. Allan promised to call her from the airport; the sound of his voice would reassure her.

On the way to his gate, he stopped at a pay phone and dialed home. The phone rang seven or so times, so he hung up and dialed again. When he got no answer, he assumed that Betty was taking her afternoon walk with Bethany. Just then he saw one of his colleagues and joined him in the boarding area. Well before eight the men had checked into their hotel and would agree to meet for dinner around nine. Allan sat on the bed in his room, going back over the day, wondering if he had forgotten something Betty had said that morning. He called his house again, let the phone ring fifteen times, then got an operator to dial the number. Still no answer. Betty could be moody, but she would never leave the house in the evening without telling anyone. Allan called Richard Parker, his next door neighbor and the real estate agent who sold them their house. When Richard answered, Allan could hear small children in the background. “Richard, this is Allan Gore. Sorry to bother you, but I’m out of town and I’ve been trying to get Betty on the phone. I think the phone must be out of order. Would you mind knocking on the door over there just to see if she’s home?” “Yeah, okay, partner,” said Richard, “I guess I can run over.” He slipped out the front door and hurried across the Gore lawn in his bare feet. Richard pounded hard on the door and waited for an answer. He rang the doorbell. He waited a few more seconds and then sprinted back across the grass. “No answer, Allan. She must be out.” “Okay,” Allan said. “Thanks for checking. I’ll call her later.”

Now Allan was starting to worry and with no other options he dialed the Montgomerys’ number. Candy answered after one ring. “Candy, this is Allan. Have you seen Betty?” “Oh, Allan, where are you?” “I’m in Minnesota on a business trip. I’ve been trying to get Betty, but no one answers, and I thought you might have talked to her today.” “I saw her this morning when I went to pick up Alisa’s swimsuit.” “Did Betty seem all right?” “She was fine,” said Candy. “She did act like she was in a hurry for me to leave.” “Do you know where she might be?” “Maybe she went to a friend’s.” “No, she wouldn’t go out this late. It scares her.” “Well, I’m sure there’s nothing wrong.” Candy’s voice was full of concern. “When I went over to pick up Alisa’s bathing suit she was okay. I remember she was sewing, and we just talked for a while, and she gave me some peppermints for Alisa and told me how she wouldn’t put her head under the water unless she got a peppermint afterward. And I took the peppermints and left.” “Is Alisa there now?” Candy called Alisa to the phone. Allan inquired about the swimming lesson and asked whether her mother had mentioned going out that evening. Alisa didn’t remember anything, so Allan told her to have a good time and be polite to the Montgomerys. Then Candy came back on the line. “Allan, is there anything I can do? I’d be happy to go over to the house and check on them for you.” “No, that’s all right, I’ll call the neighbors.” A few minutes later Allan went downstairs to the hotel restaurant. When he returned to his room around ten o’clock, well past Betty’s bedtime he decided to call again. But still no answer at home with the fear growing stronger Allan called Richard again and asked him to see if Betty’s car was in the garage. Richard went as far as the chain link fence between the two houses and peered into the garage. Then he went back to the phone and said, “Yeah, Allan, there’s only one car there, and the garage is open and the lights are on.” “That’s strange,” said Allan. As he considered all the possibilities he decided it had to be some emergency; perhaps the baby was sick. And he called the Plano hospital and the Wylie police but they had never heard of Betty Gore. As the time started growing later he was starting to spiral. He needed to talk to someone with a calm, level head and a sympathetic ear. So he called Candy again. “One car is gone, the garage door is open, and the lights are on,” Allan said. “She never leaves that garage door open. Has she called there or anything?” “Oh, Allan, no she hasn’t. Let me go down there and check the house. Or let me check the hospitals for you.” “No, no, I just wanted to make sure you couldn’t remember anything else. I’ll get the neighbors to check again.” “Don’t worry about Alisa, Allan. We have her and she’s fine.”

Allan hung up and felt sick. Why didn’t Betty call him? Why didn’t anyone know anything? Why couldn’t he make the one phone call that would make everything alright? For the third time he dialed Richard Parker’s house, but this time he didn’t waste words. “Richard, I’m really worried about her. Please go back over there and check all the doors and the garage again. If she had to leave in a hurry, maybe she left a note somewhere.” Richard sighed he didn’t like the responsibility and was a little frightened by Allan’s panic but he went all the way around the back fence, into the alley, and up the Gore driveway. He was startled to see two cars in the garage. The Volkswagen Rabbit was pulled up so far that he hadn’t been able to see it from the fence. Richard walked into the garage and tried to open the door to the utility room. He could see a light under the door, but it was locked. Something about the house, the burning lights, the open garage, the silence disturbed him. He couldn’t go any further and rushed back home. “Something’s wrong, Allan. I don’t know what, but something’s wrong. Both cars are there and the lights are on, but nobody answers.” “Richard,” said Allan, “I want you to go and get in that house any way you can.” Richard didn’t say anything for a moment. “Okay, Allan, I guess so.” “Call me back when you find out something. Here, write down my number.” Richard took down the number and hung up and took a deep breath. He paused for a moment and then went to find his realtor’s keys, hoping he had one that fit the Gore house. While Allan waited for Richard to call back he grew skeptical of Richard’s resolve; he had sounded scared and unsure if he wanted to help. Allan decided to call Jerry who lived across the alley from the Gores. “Jerry, something is wrong over at my house. I’ve been trying to get Betty but nobody answers. The lights are on and the doors are locked. Would you get a flashlight and go over there and see what you can find out?” “Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.” Jerry stepped into a jumpsuit and his house shoes and started down his back driveway with a flashlight.

He knocked loudly on the utility room door in Allan's garage but got no answer. Then he walked into the backyard and tried to force open a sliding glass door, but it wouldn’t budge. He continued around to the front of the house, peering in windows as he went, and rang the doorbell, but still there was no sign of life. Back at his own house, he told Allan, “The lights are on in there, but I can’t see anything wrong.” “Jerry, there is something very definitely wrong.” “She’s probably just out with friends.” “No, she’s not with friends. I’ve already tried that. Get in that house and see what’s wrong. Take the windows off, force the doors, whatever it takes.”

As soon as Jerry told his wife what was happening, she grew frightened and insisted that he not go over there alone. So Jerry called Lester, a barber who lived next door to the Gores on the other side from Richard. Two minutes later, the two friends met in the alley behind the Gore house when Richard walked out into the yard carrying a big silver ring full of house keys, he was startled to see Jerry and Lester. “What the hell’s going on?” Jerry asked. “I don’t know,” said Richard. “Gore just called and said to get in the house. I’ve got these realtor’s keys. Let’s try them on the doors.” The three men walked up the Gore driveway. While Richard tried his keys on the utility door one by one, Jerry and Lester tried to force open the sliding door again. It was the fifth time the house had been checked that night, but doing it as a group invested the procedure with a seriousness that made them all uncomfortable. If there was something wrong inside, they weren’t sure they wanted to see it. Unfortunately none of Richard’s keys worked, out of options one of the men suggested they try the front windows of the home. Together they walked around to the street side of the house, and Jerry and Lester inspected a large window into the dining room to see if it could be pried open. Richard went to the front door to try his realtor’s keys again. As he placed the first key in the lock, a chill ran down his spine. The door swung open. He had not even turned the key. “This door,” he said, turning to Jerry and Lester and stepping away from it, “this door is not locked.” The two men joined Richard on the porch, but for a moment no one made a move to go in. Richard stuck his head in the crack the open door had made: “Betty?” he said. Then louder: “Betty!” Finally Lester pushed open the door, and the three men entered the foyer, illuminated by the lights burning in the den to the right and in the bathroom to the left. All the hall doors were closed. Lester stopped at the first one, opened it, and flipped on the light inside: Richard looked over Lester’s shoulder: a child’s bedroom. Nothing unusual. They continued down the hall to the next room. Jerry peered into the bathroom, and on the tile he saw a dark, caked substance. “Oh, no,” he said, “something bad is wrong.” In the second bedroom, Lester opened the door and flipped on the light. As soon as he did, Richard heard the hacking wail of an abandoned child and the simultaneous exclamation of Lester: “Oh, my God, the baby.” From the doorway Richard could see Bethany in her crib, half sitting, half lying, her legs folded under her, her face blotchy and red, her hair tangled and dirty. Her skin was stained with her own excrement. Her hoarse crying curdled their blood. She had obviously been there a long time. Richard quickly gathered up the baby. Cradling her head against his shoulder, he hurried back to his house to call the police.

As Richard left, Jerry and Lester went on to the master bedroom, where they found nothing. With nerves racing the men knew the only other part to check in the home was the other side. After finding the baby and the blood stained bathroom they anxiously entered the living area, and Jerry went into the dining room on the right while Lester took the kitchen on the left. They walked slowly, turning on lights as they went. Both of them were increasingly aware of a pungent odor that seemed to follow them through the house. Finally Lester made his way through the kitchen to the utility room door. “Oh, my God, don’t go any farther!” Lester shut the door quickly, and in the stunned silence of the moment it was difficult to tell whether he was talking to Jerry, to himself, or to someone on the other side of the door. “She’s dead.” Lester had not seen the body. He hadn’t seen anything but blood thick, reddish-brown seas of blood flooding the tile of the utility room floor and he didn’t want to look any further than that. From the dining room, Jerry saw the look on Lester’s face and heard the shock in his voice and walked cautiously toward the utility room. As Lester moved away, Jerry cracked the door open and, without getting any closer, looked in. He saw only a glimpse, but it was enough. He shut the door. “She’s blown her head off,” he said. Lester went to the telephone on the kitchen counter, thinking we would call the police, but just as he reached for the receiver, the phone rang. For an instant, Jerry and Lester froze. Lester picked it up. “Hello.” “This is Allan.” He had called because he couldn’t wait any longer. Lester hesitated. Jerry sensed what was happening. “Is that Allan?” he asked. Lester meekly handed him the phone. “What did you find?” Allan’s voice was tense and shaky. “I’m afraid it’s not good,” said Jerry, finding no words to describe what he had just seen. “But don’t worry the little one is okay.” “The baby is okay?”

“Yes.” “What about Betty?” “I’m sorry, Allan.” “What happened?” Jerry had to say something. “I don’t know for sure.” “What do you think?” “It looks like she’s been shot.” “How? We don’t have a gun.” “I’m sorry, Allan. I wish I had another way to say it.” After a silence, Jerry said, “What about Alisa, Allan? Do you know where she is?” “Yeah, she’s fine. She’s fine.” “I wish there was something else I could say, Allan. We’ll stay here and explain everything to the police.” “Okay, thanks, Jerry.” Allan was stunned and disoriented that he temporarily forgot where he was. Not knowing what else to do, he called Candy Montgomery again. Pat was a little frustrated when the phone rang eleven-thirty: he and Candy had just started making love. “What timing,” he said, as Candy reached immediately for the phone. “Candy.” Allan’s voice was distant and flat. “I have some bad news. Betty is dead.” “Oh, Allan.” Candy’s voice broke. “What happened? “It looks like she’s been shot. The neighbors found her.” “What about Bethany?” Allan didn’t even hear the question. “I know that there have been some things bothering her lately,” he said, “and I know she’s been upset, and she was two weeks late with her period. But I never thought that she would” Allan stopped, and Pat noticed tears forming in Candy’s eyes. “What can I say, Allan?” Candy was almost whimpering. “Please keep Alisa for a while and don’t tell her what happened. I want to tell her.” “Oh, Allan, are you going to be all right?” “Yes, I’m okay. I’ve got to go.” Candy hung up and began to sob. Pat put his arm around her shoulders. “Is she dead?” he asked. “I don’t know, I didn’t ask. How can you ask something like that? But she must have been, because the neighbors found her.” A gun, she thought. A suicide. Allan Gore wondered whom he should call next. He stared at the wall, and his mind went blank for a moment. Then he saw Betty, as he had seen her for the last time that morning, as he would see her for months to come. She had walked out onto the driveway with Bethany in her arms. As Allan pulled away, she raised Bethany’s little hand and waved it at him, and for the first time that day Betty had smiled, really smiled. When the police arrived at the gore home they walked into the small room, no more than twelve feet long by six feet wide, made smaller by the presence of a washer, a dryer, a freezer, and a small cabinet where Betty had kept toys and knickknacks. In one corner were a brand-new toy wagon and a child’s training toilet. Closer to the center of the room, where the freezer stood against one wall, were two dog-food dishes and a bruised book of Mother Goose nursery rhymes. Her left arm was the first thing they noticed after opening the door. It lay in a pool of blood and fluid so thick that the arm appeared to be floating above the linoleum. To get a look at her face, the men had to walk around the ocean of red and black to get closer. What they saw was even more unsettling. Her lips were parted, showing her front teeth, the mouth fashioned into a half-grin. Her hair radiated in all directions, a tangled, soaked mass of glistening black. And Betty’s left eye was wide open, staring down at the gaping black craters in her arm. As to her right eye she appeared to not have one. The entire right half of her face seemed to be gone. A few feet from Betty’s head and half concealed under the freezer was a heavy, wooden-handled, three-foot-long ax.

Candy Montgomery slept for three hours and then got up, alone, to fix breakfast. Pat and the children and Alisa Gore were still sleeping. She and Pat had stayed up talking about Betty for a while, but when Pat was unable to get any information from the police, they gave up and lay staring at the ceiling. They tried to sleep. Pat fell asleep first, but Candy kept thinking about the last phone call from Allan. After telling them that Betty had been shot, he had called back to give them his flight schedule. Before hanging up, he said something else. “I’ve talked to the police, and I mentioned that you were over there, so they’ll probably be calling.” It was the first time Candy had thought about it. Candy went through the rituals of a housewife, making the bed, putting away a few toys. She called softly to the children to get up, and they limped down the stairs for breakfast. Pat went outside to mow. The kids finished eating and ran out to play.

Then the phone calls started. “Candy, have you heard?” “About Betty? Just that she was shot.” “Well, don’t turn on a radio where Alisa can hear. I haven’t heard it, but I understand it’s all over the news.” “Oh, is it?” Candy felt a twinge; she stared straight ahead. “Thank you for letting us know.” The phone rang again almost as soon as Candy hung up. Since it was Saturday morning, everyone was home, listening to the radios and trading information by phone. “Candy? Do you know Betty’s dead?” “We heard last night. It’s so awful.” “The police just left. They say she was murdered with an ax.” And with a few short words Candy’s heart stopped “An ax?” she said. “It must have been some very sick person.” The telephone wouldn’t stop ringing.

Unsure of what to do Candy went out into the yard and got the hedge trimmers and started clipping the shrubbery around the white fence. It was hard, messy work, but she pitched into it whole-heartedly, rubbing blisters on her hand from pressing the clippers so hard. Then she fielded more calls, many of them from shocked church members who naturally called the woman who always seemed to know what was going on: “Who could have such a diseased mind, to use a weapon like that?” “If they ever catch the person who did this, there’s nothing they could do to him that would be punishment enough.” “I just hate that Betty suffered.” “They say they have a bloody footprint.” The bloody footprint was fast becoming the sole detail of the crime known to every person in Collin County. Around lunchtime the calls began to slow down. A friend reported that Allan was home and that when he was told that Betty had been killed with an ax, he almost collapsed. Candy sat by the kitchen table, phone cradled between her ear and shoulder, a pair of garden shears in her hands. As she spoke, she worked the garden shears back and forth, pressing with all her might as the blades cut through a pair of rubber sandals. She continued her work for several minutes, long enough to destroy all semblance of pattern on the soles, rendering the shoes into a messy heap of rubber. After hanging up the phone, she gathered the scraps and carried them to an outside garbage can.

By the afternoon, Police asked Candy to come down to the station to discuss the events of that afternoon with Betty. Candy's own report stated that she was the last person to see Betty alive, The police who investigated Betty Gore’s death could not believe that anyone as small as Candy Montgomery had the physical strength to wield that ax so brutally, so during the first initial interviews they were just going through the motions of an interview thinking a man came into the house and performed this brutal attack. As the police grew suspicious about Candy they still found it hard to believe that this pretty, vivacious, utterly normal suburban housewife could make such a vicious attack. She was a loving mother, a devoted wife, a churchgoer, and everyone’s friend.. She really was as normal and likable and good as she appeared except for one dark corner of her soul that even she did not know about. Police continued to follow up on leads and questioned anyone possible. They kept coming back to Candy, she was the last one to see Betty alive and no other leads were panning out. Candy was slowly becoming the main suspect. The police questioned her several times, but her version of the day’s events and of her relations with the Gores was always airtight. They had nothing to go off or and it seemed like Betty Gore's case was going to go cold. Or so they thought until one day Allan Gore couldn't take the guilt any longer of his small lie to the police during his questioning. Allan decided it was time to call the police on the case and admitted that he had an affair with Candy and they ended an affair seven months earlier. And just like that the police a motive for killing, which they had been unable to fathom when they questioned the bright, attractive housewife. Candy Montgomery was quickly arrested and charged with Betty Gore’s murder. Unsure of what to do Candy denied the charges.

My thoughts.

Outro

That brings us to the end of this episode! As always, thanks for listening to Murder By Nature. If you enjoy our show, please rate and review us on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or any streaming platform you are currently on, and be sure to come back Saturday for our new episode. Until then, I am your host, Jazmin, don’t forget to stay safe! Don’t get murdered or murder people!

Murder by nature

The True Story Behind Love & Death: The Murder of Betty Gore Part 3

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