the inscription, said love corey and ryan, who is corey and who is ryan. that must have been a shocker to cross your desk. sends a chill down your spine. i killed someone. he was older. i loved him. pretty scary. a sinister story. but not even it revealed the whole twisted truth. i know what happened and no one will believe me. it s like, this really happening? i didn t think i could feel so much anger. it was late, past midnight. no sign of life. not so them anyway. he hit the brakes. this was the place, grabbed their weapons, headed for the house. a window, unlocked. pay dirt. the prairie takes on a sweet rolling pitch as it tucks in to a nebraska corner a mile south of omaha, it has grown solid and faithful americans. a tiny remnant of whom who have planted themselves around a place called murdock, a place where heads turn when strangers drive by and family names are carved in the local stone. it was 2006, a big farm yard, and like every yard, an easter e
who s ryan, who s cory? the trail would looed hundreds of miles away to a chilling piece of evidence. pretty much sends a chill down your spine. i killed someone. i loved her. a sinister story but not even it revealed the whole twisted truth. i know what happened and no one will believe me. is this really happening? i didn t think i could have so much anger. reporter: it was late, past midnight, when the farmhouse loomed up in their headlights. no sign of life. not to them, anyway. he hit the brakes. this was the place. they grabbed their weapons, headed for the house. a window unlocked. pay dirt. the prairie takes on a sweet, rolling pitch as it tucks into a nebraska corner an hour south of omaha. here the rich black soil has grown solid and faithful american. a tiny remnant who have planted themselves in and around a place called murdock, the sort of place where heads turn when a stranger drives by. and a family s name is carved on a local stone. it was
the inscription said love always, corey and ryan. they wanted to find out who was a ryan and who was cori. reporter: it was late, past midnight, when the farmhouse loomed up in their headlights. no sign of life. not to them, anyway. he hit the brakes. this was the place. they grabbed their weapons, headed for the house. a window unlocked. pay dirt. the prairie takes on a sweet, rolling pitch as it tucks into a nebraska corner an hour south of omaha. here the rich black soil has grown solid and faithful american. a tiny remnant who have planted themselves in and around a place called murdock, the sort of place where heads turn when a stranger drives by. and a family s name is carved on a local stone. it was easter sunday, 2006. a big farm yard and like every year, an easter egg hunt. grandma and papa s yard. reporter: or mom and dad to tami who brought her own son, like always. y found their easter eggs. they found their easter baskets. mom always made every individ
scene, the worst i ve ever seen. a loving couple dead. was the killer one of the family. they arrested matt. i said, matt who? he said, my cousin, matt. d, my t but this case was not solved. one tiny clue didn t fit. the inscription said love corey. who was that? that must have been a shocker? pretty much sends a chill down your spine. i killed someone, he was older, i loved him. pretty scary. a sinister story. not even it told the whole twisted truth. i know what happened and no one will believe me. is this really happening? i didn t think i could feel so much anger. in the dead of night. hello. welcome to dateline extra. i m craig melvin. it was an easter sunday tradition and this holiday was no different. they gathered their children and grandchildren in for a big family celebration. later that night, gunshots turned their nebraska farmhouse into a house of horrors. wayne and sharman were dead. had the killer been sitting around the holiday