A Fateful Walk on the Monon High Bridge
On February 13, 2017, Delphi, Indiana was forever changed. Best friends Abigail “Abby” Williams (13) and Liberty “Libby” German (14) had a day off from school and decided to spend the unseasonably warm afternoon hiking the Monon High Bridge Trail, a popular local nature trail just outside their small hometown. Libby’s older sister Kelsi dropped the girls off around 1:30 PM, exchanging “I love you” with her sister in what would tragically be their final moment together. The girls wandered along the old railway bridge, laughing and snapping photos. At 2:07 PM, Libby posted a Snapchat photo of Abby walking on the tall, weathered bridge. Not long after, something went terribly wrong. The two teens never showed up at the agreed-upon pickup spot where Libby’s father was waiting at 3:15 PM. Calls and texts to the girls went unanswered.
As dusk approached and temperatures dropped, the families’ worry turned to panic. They alerted authorities and dozens of community members joined police in a frantic search of the woods, trails, and creek area. Flashlights cut through the early darkness, and voices rang out calling the girls’ names. In this tight-knit town of under 3,000 people, it was unthinkable that two children could simply vanish. Yet by midnight, there was still no sign of Abby or Libby. Friends and family clung to hope, but a sense of dread was building. The once-peaceful trails now felt ominous as everyone feared what daylight might bring.
On February 14, 2017 – Valentine’s Day – those fears were realized in the most devastating way. Around noon, searchers discovered the bodies of Abby and Libby on the north bank of Deer Creek, about half a mile from the Monon High Bridge. The girls had been murdered. A crime so brutal and cruel, inflicted on two beloved children, shattered the heart of Delphi. The dream of finding Abby and Libby safe was lost, replaced by the families’ worst nightmare. Mike and Becky Patty, who raised Libby, later recalled the horror of learning what happened to their granddaughter and her friend. “The whole town was devastated,” remembers one resident, describing the collective grief and shock that blanketed Delphi that day. Purple and teal ribbons (the girls’ favorite colors) appeared on trees and lampposts around town in their memory, as tearful prayer vigils were held in the ensuing nights. The innocence of Delphi was stolen along with two young lives, and an urgent question hung in the air: Who could have done this?
Who Were Abby Williams and Libby German?
Abby Williams and Libby German were more than just victims of a heinous crime – they were vibrant young girls with hopes, talents, and people who loved them dearly. Abby was 13 years old, a quiet but fun-loving eighth grader at Delphi Community Middle School. She had a bright smile and an artistic streak. Abby loved photography, painting, and playing the saxophone in the school band. But sports were her passion – she was especially enthusiastic about volleyball, and had recently joined the softball team as well. In fact, Abby took up softball mainly to spend more time with Libby, who excelled at the sport. Abby’s mother, Anna Williams, described her daughter as someone who “smiled all the time… she loved to be around other people.” Abby was known for her kindness and the way she would stick up for the underdog. She and Libby became fast friends in 7th grade and were nearly inseparable.
Liberty “Libby” German, at 14, was outgoing, outspoken, and full of energy. Raised by her grandparents Mike and Becky Patty, Libby was the kind of person who went out of her way to lift others up. She was always cracking jokes or giving a hug to someone having a bad day. Becky says Libby “made it a point to make people feel good.” In school, Libby was a talented athlete – a softball player who dreamed of playing in college someday. She was also a budding tech whiz who enjoyed science class and tinkering with gadgets. Libby loved taking photos and videos; fittingly, it was her quick thinking to start recording video on her phone when she sensed danger that ultimately provided crucial evidence in the case. Family members lovingly called Libby “Lady Liberty” for her independent spirit and big heart.
Despite their different personalities – Abby a bit shy and reserved, Libby more outgoing and adventurous – the two girls bonded over their love of the outdoors and sports. They were best friends who balanced each other perfectly. They spent countless weekends at sleepovers, giggling about YouTube videos and planning their futures. Both girls had a creative side: Abby with her art and Libby with her photography and cooking (she often experimented baking treats for family). On that fateful hike, they were just two girls enjoying nature and each other’s company on a day off school.
The loss of these bright young souls hit Delphi hard. Teachers and classmates remembered Abby’s gentle friendship and Libby’s leadership and humor. They weren’t just names in a news story – they were real children with dreams that will never be realized. The community vowed that Abby and Libby would never be forgotten. Memorials sprang up: the middle school library was renamed in their honor, and plans were made to build a sports complex called Abby and Libby Memorial Park so future generations could play and remember the girls’ love of sports. In the words of Libby’s grandfather Mike Patty, “They stuck together to the end… two best friends who wouldn’t leave each other’s side.” That heartbreaking image of their friendship enduring even in their final moments only strengthened the resolve of loved ones and strangers alike to seek justice for the girls.
The Crime Scene and First Clues
In the initial aftermath of the girls’ discovery, police released few details publicly – a strategic move as investigators scrambled to find the killer. But whispers of the grisly scene spread through the community, sowing fear and speculation. We now know that Abby and Libby’s cause of death was homicide by sharp instrument – both girls’ throats had been cut. This detail was kept secret until it came out in court years later, but early searchers sadly noted the amount of blood at the site. The girls’ bodies were found in a wooded area on a property owned by an elderly man named Ronald Logan, only about 1,400 feet from his house. This proximity immediately made Logan a person of interest in those first days.
Investigators faced a challenging crime scene. It was outdoors on uneven terrain near a creek, exposed to the elements and potential contamination. Yet some critical clues were recovered. Notably, Libby’s cellphone was found near her body. Miraculously, despite the horror they were facing, Libby had managed to use her phone to record a 43-second video during the encounter. This video would become perhaps the single most important piece of evidence in the case. Authorities quickly extracted from Libby’s phone a grainy image of a man walking on the bridge – seemingly the same bridge the girls had just crossed. In the photo, he’s a white male wearing blue jeans, a blue jacket, and a cap, with his hands in his pockets and head slightly down. His appearance is unremarkable yet chilling given the context. The public would come to know him simply as “Bridge Guy,” the prime suspect captured on Libby’s camera.
Audio was also recovered: a male voice saying “Guys… down the hill.” Just four words, muffled and terse, but utterly haunting. Investigators believe this was the killer ordering Abby and Libby down a wooded embankment towards the creek – away from the trail where they might be seen. From Libby’s video, police suspect the man approached the girls on the bridge, produced a gun (one of the girls is heard mentioning a “gun” on the recording), and forced them to comply. Libby’s decision to hit “record” – perhaps with the phone hidden in her pocket or dropped in her bag – was an act of astounding courage and presence of mind. Carroll County’s Sheriff at the time praised Libby as a hero for documenting these crucial clues in secret. It would turn out that Abby likely hid the phone afterward, as it continued capturing audio even as the attack began. This evidence, however, was kept tightly under wraps. As State Police Superintendent Doug Carter often repeated publicly, investigators could not release everything they had for fear of compromising the case. This only fueled outside speculation about what horrors the full tape might contain.
In those early days, social media rumors ran rampant. Locals on Facebook and internet forums speculated about the manner of the murders and what the killer might have done. Some unconfirmed claims suggested the girls’ bodies were posed in a strange way or that certain objects were left at the scene – rumors of “staging” that, while not confirmed initially by police, hinted at a particularly cruel or ritualistic element. (Years later, when investigative documents were unsealed, it did emerge that the FBI suspected the killer “moved and staged” the bodies, and that items of the girls’ clothing were missing, possibly taken as “trophies.”) In Delphi’s cozy coffee shops and churches, people whispered about possible suspects – was it a drifter? Someone from out of town? Or, more terrifying, could the killer be one of their own in this close community? Parents kept their children indoors as a precaution; the trails that were once a place of joy became a locus of fear.
From the start, authorities had one major lead: the Bridge Guy footage from Libby’s phone. On February 15, just one day after the bodies were found, Indiana State Police released a still image of the suspect on the bridge to the public, asking for help identifying him. The grainy photo showed a stocky man in a cap and jacket, walking on the railroad ties of Monon High Bridge. At that moment, everyone in Delphi began scrutinizing the face of every man they knew, wondering if they recognized the mysterious figure. Two days later, police dropped another bombshell – audio of the suspect’s voice, the now infamous command, “Down the hill.” Hearing the killer’s voice sent chills through all who listened. While only a short clip was shared, officials hinted that more audio existed on Libby’s phone that they were keeping confidential. These early moves by law enforcement – sharing the image and voice – were somewhat unusual but underscored how desperately they needed the public’s help. Tips flooded in by the thousands as the composite image of “Bridge Guy” and the sound of his voice looped endlessly on national news.
The Investigation Unfolds
In the weeks and months following the murders, a massive investigation took shape. Multiple agencies were involved: the Carroll County Sheriff’s Office, Indiana State Police, and the FBI all formed a task force to chase down leads. They set up a tip hotline and received over 18,000 tips in just the first few months – an overwhelming volume of information that had to be sifted, catalogued, and followed up. Investigators conducted dozens of interviews, some with known sex offenders in the region, others with anyone who was known to frequent the trails. Early on, attention turned to Ronald Logan, the 77-year-old landowner of the property where Abby and Libby were found. Logan had a criminal record of DUI offenses and was on probation at the time, which forbade alcohol use or leaving the county. On the day of the murders, Logan bizarrely lied about his whereabouts – he asked a cousin to say she picked him up to go to a fish store, providing a false alibi for the afternoon. Cell phone records later showed Logan was near the crime scene, contradicting his alibi. These red flags prompted the FBI to seek a search warrant on Logan’s house and property in March 2017, looking for any evidence tying him to the murders.
That search warrant affidavit, which remained sealed for years, contained some disturbing hypotheses from an FBI agent. It asserted the belief that the girls’ bodies had been moved and “staged” in a particular manner, and that the perpetrator likely took some piece of clothing or memento from the scene (hinting at a ritualistic or serial offender mentality). The agent also noted the large amount of blood lost by the victims would have drenched the killer – whoever did this would have been covered in blood. Despite these suspicions, the searches of Logan’s property did not yield any conclusive evidence linking him to the crime. No bloody clothes, no murder weapon, no DNA match. Logan denied involvement and was never charged in relation to the Delphi case. (He was, however, jailed briefly for violating probation due to the alibi lie, and sadly died in January 2022, with some in the community still wrongly convinced he “must have done it.”)
Investigators were back to square one publicly, but behind the scenes they continued to grind through tips and leads. In July 2017, officials released a composite sketch of the suspect – an illustration based on eyewitness accounts from the trail that day. This first sketch depicted a middle-aged man with a goatee, cap, and a prominent nose. It bore some resemblance to the grainy video image, and many assumed this was the person they should be looking for. Yet, in a surprising pivot two years later, April 2019, the State Police announced a “new direction” in the case. They unveiled a second composite sketch, shockingly different from the first – a much younger-looking clean-shaven man. Investigators said this new sketch now superseded the old one; essentially, the case trajectory had changed. They urged the public: “Think of this person as someone who could be hiding in plain sight. He may be from Delphi or familiar with it.” This was interpreted as a hint that the killer was likely local, possibly even someone who sat in on community press briefings about the case.
The introduction of a brand new suspect sketch caused a wave of confusion and renewed interest. People speculated: Did police have two suspects? Did the killer have an accomplice (one older, one younger)? Or had the investigation simply evolved, ruling out the original sketch as a misidentification? Law enforcement was tight-lipped about the reasons, but we now know that the second sketch was actually drawn very early on – it was based on a witness who saw a younger man walking away from the area on the day of the crime. That sketch had been set aside in 2017 as tips focused on older suspects like Logan. By 2019, perhaps frustrated by the stalemate, the task force decided to publicize the alternate sketch to jolt new leads. This confusion was hard on the public, and social media theories exploded. Amateur sleuths on Reddit and Facebook debated endlessly: Was the killer an older man or a younger man? Could the drawings be two different people who both encountered the girls? Rumors swirled that maybe there were multiple perpetrators, though police never confirmed that. Indeed, authorities consistently asserted they believed one man committed the murders. The “guys” in “Guys, down the hill” was likely how the killer addressed the girls – not an indication he had accomplices waiting.
Throughout 2017-2021, the case weighed heavily on Delphi. The town lived under a cloud of fear and suspicion. Innocent local men found themselves the target of rumors simply because they resembled a sketch or had a history in the area. The families of Abby and Libby had to endure not only the loss of their girls, but also the pressure of public scrutiny and a seeming lack of progress. Each year on the February 13 anniversary, police would hold a press briefing, assuring everyone that the case was active and not cold. Superintendent Carter became known for his passionate, almost personal addresses to the unknown killer, once saying, “We’re coming for you, and today might be the day – sleep well.” These public appeals were emotional and sometimes cryptic, leading many web sleuths to read between the lines for hidden clues (for example, Carter’s choice of words like “bridge” or “hill” in speeches was dissected ad nauseam online).
One significant development came in December 2021, nearly five years on. Investigators revealed to the public that they were looking into a potential social media connection to the case. Specifically, they announced they had “uncovered” a fake online profile known as “anthony_shots” that had been in contact with underage girls in the area around the time of the murders. The profile, active in 2016-2017 on platforms like Snapchat and Instagram, used the stolen photos of a handsome male model to catfish young girls, soliciting nude images and arranging meetups. Police didn’t explicitly say Abby or Libby had communicated with this account, but they pleaded for anyone who had interacted with “anthony_shots” to come forward. It soon leaked out that the man behind that account was Kegan Kline, a then-27-year-old from a town about 40 minutes away. Kline had been arrested in 2020 on multiple child pornography and exploitation charges unrelated to Delphi, but the timing and proximity raised eyebrows. Social media exploded with theories that the girls might have been lured to the trail by someone they met online.
Libby’s own grandmother, Becky Patty, was stunned by this development – she told reporters that Libby never mentioned chatting with any strange older guys online. The family hadn’t known about Kline or the catfish profile prior to police revealing it. This fueled speculation that perhaps Libby had a secret online interaction that tragically led them into a trap. However, it’s important to note that authorities have never confirmed that Abby or Libby were actually duped into meeting anyone that day. Kegan Kline himself, in leaked interview transcripts, reportedly told investigators he had made plans to meet Libby on February 13, 2017 at the bridge but claimed he didn’t go through with it. This unverified claim, if true, suggests a disturbing possibility that Libby thought she was meeting the cute “Anthony Shots” model, and instead encountered a killer. Still, Kline denied any involvement in the murders, and investigators publicly stated in 2022 that no evidence directly connected Kline to the Delphi crime. They likely viewed the catfishing angle as one of many leads – perhaps a coincidence or a secondary layer of the case. Kline eventually pleaded guilty to the child porn charges and was sentenced in 2023 to 40+ years in prison. Some observers believe he may have cooperated with Delphi investigators in exchange for leniency (his sentencing was delayed multiple times, raising suspicions). In any event, the “anthony_shots” revelation was a turning point that reinvigorated interest in the case and showed that police were still actively chasing down every thread.
The Case Cracks Open: A Suspect in Plain Sight
By early 2022, five years had passed with no arrests. Abby and Libby’s families, though heartbroken and exhausted, continued to push for answers. Then, in the fall of 2022, seemingly out of nowhere, the stunning news broke: an arrest had been made in the Delphi murders. On October 28, 2022, Indiana State Police announced they had taken a local man, Richard Matthew Allen, into custody and charged him with two counts of murder. The community was blindsided – Richard Allen? A name not previously circulated in the rumor mills, a 50-year-old married father who lived in Delphi and worked at the CVS pharmacy on Main Street. Allen had no criminal record and was by most accounts an unremarkable, ordinary citizen. How did he suddenly become the prime suspect after all these years?
The truth was, Allen had been on law enforcement’s radar since 2017, but due to a clerical mishap, his tip information was misplaced. Back on February 15, 2017 (just two days after the murders), Richard Allen voluntarily walked into the Carroll County Sheriff’s Office and reported that he had been on the Monon High Bridge trail the day Abby and Libby vanished. He said he went out there around lunchtime for a stroll and to “watch the fish” from the bridge. He admitted he’d seen some other people, including “three girls” (possibly referring to other teen hikers in the area), but claimed he didn’t encounter Abby or Libby. Allen’s statement was taken down, but incredibly, it was filed under the wrong name (his last name was entered as “Adams” or spelled incorrectly). So when investigators later reviewed tips, Allen’s self-reported presence at the crime scene slipped through the cracks. Essentially, he was overlooked for five years until a diligent civilian office assistant, helping to organize old files, spotted the error in September 2022. This volunteer, a local woman named Kathy Shank, flagged the tip and brought it to the lead detective’s attention. In that moment, a cascade of revelations came together.
Upon re-examining Richard Allen, investigators found more and more reasons for suspicion. Allen lived only 2 miles from the bridge. He was an avid hiker who knew the trails well. He matched aspects of the suspect description – not in height (Allen is actually quite short at about 5’4” tall), but in general appearance and clothing. In fact, a search of Allen’s house in late October 2022 uncovered a crucial piece of evidence: a Sig Sauer .40-caliber pistol that, when tested, matched an unspent bullet found at the crime scene back in 2017. This was a pivotal forensic link. That bullet (a cartridge casing) had been found on the ground not far from the girls’ bodies. It hadn’t been fired, but analysts determined it bore unique marks aligning with Allen’s gun, likely from having been cycled through the pistol’s action. The implication was that Allen brought a gun to control the victims and possibly lost a round in the process.
Additionally, witnesses had reported seeing a muddy, bloody man walking away from the trails around 3:30 PM on Feb 13, 2017 – this aligned with the timeframe of the murders. The description given (blue jacket, jeans, a hat, and appearing to have been in a struggle) fit what Allen said he was wearing that day. Another tip mentioned a strange car parked at an old Child Services building by the trailhead, positioned as if to conceal its license plate. Allen owned a vehicle matching that description at the time. In hindsight, all these clues pointed to him, but without his name properly flagged, they hadn’t been pieced together until five years later. It was a chilling realization for the people of Delphi that the killer had likely been living quietly among them, greeting neighbors at the CVS, even processing photos for the victims’ families (a heartbreaking detail: Rick Allen developed photos for Libby’s funeral at his store and reportedly didn’t charge the family). The notion that the murderer offered condolences and blended into the background of the very community mourning the girls was deeply unnerving.
When news of Allen’s arrest came, Abby’s and Libby’s loved ones felt a mix of relief and boiling anger. Relief that at last someone was being held accountable – and that this person could never hurt anyone else – but anger at the years of torment spent wondering, and at the possibility that the killer had been “hiding in plain sight” as police had long suggested. Libby’s grandmother, upon Allen’s conviction later, poignantly said, “We got our verdict, but that didn’t bring the girls back. It doesn’t give us closure… It gives a little peace to know he can never hurt another person again. That’s where he should be. But is it happy? Not really.” This encapsulates the bittersweet truth of justice in such cases – it punishes the guilty, but it cannot truly heal the loss.
The Trial of Richard Allen and Gruesome Revelations
After Richard Allen’s arrest, a lengthy legal process began. He pleaded not guilty, maintaining his innocence despite the evidence mounting. Pre-trial proceedings were dramatic in their own right. A gag order was imposed to limit case details from leaking. Allen’s defense attorneys filed for a change of venue, arguing that finding an unbiased jury in Carroll County would be impossible given the notoriety of the case. Ultimately, the trial remained in Delphi in October 2024, but with jurors selected from outside the immediate area and fully sequestered to ensure impartiality.
As the trial approached, there were unexpected twists. In mid-2023, Allen’s defense team put forth a controversial theory: they suggested that Abby and Libby might have been killed by a group of Odinite pagan worshippers in a ritual sacrifice, not by Allen. This eyebrow-raising claim was based on supposed “odd symbols” at the crime scene (like arrangements of sticks) that the defense argued resembled pagan Norse runes. They implied that law enforcement ignored or covered up this angle and were railroading Allen instead. These allegations spilled into public when defense documents were somehow leaked online, sparking a frenzy of social media debate over a possible “Odinist cult” in Indiana. However, prosecutors vehemently denied any evidence of such cult involvement, and most observers viewed the Odinism theory as a desperate red herring. The judge found these claims lacking concrete support, and they played no real role in the trial. (The episode did, however, fuel conspiracy-minded chatter on forums, with some believing multiple killers or a broader conspiracy were still at large – all unsubstantiated by any official evidence.)
The trial itself, which began October 18, 2024, was emotionally charged and revealed the horrifying details that had been kept secret. For the first time publicly, evidence confirmed that both girls had their throats cut by the killer. Moreover, the crime scene had some bizarre elements: Abby Williams was found fully clothed in Libby German’s sweatshirt and jeans, while Libby was found stripped naked. It appears the killer redressed Abby in her friend’s clothes for reasons unknown – a macabre act of staging that shocked the courtroom. A blood spatter expert testified about the scene, explaining that Libby’s blood was found smeared on a tree trunk, mixed with what appeared to be tears. This heartbreaking forensic detail led Libby’s family to sob in court; it meant Libby was crying in her final moments as she bled, perhaps alive for a short time after the attack. The expert believed Libby was initially attacked right by that tree and then dragged about 20 feet to where her body was ultimately left. Abby, on the other hand, showed no blood on her arms and defensive wounds were largely absent on both girls, indicating they might have been subdued quickly (perhaps by the threat of the gun). Abby’s arms were found raised in an eerily unusual position, almost as if in a “boxer’s stance,” which the expert noted he had never seen before – possibly suggesting she was incapacitated or tied up in some manner when killed. These ghastly specifics were hard to hear, but Abby and Libby’s families insisted on being present for every moment, determined to speak for their girls who could not speak for themselves.
The prosecution presented a strong circumstantial case augmented by that critical ballistic match. The unspent .40 caliber round found between the girls was forensically linked to Richard Allen’s gun by unique markings – essentially a fingerprint for the firearm. Investigators believe this shell could have ejected when Allen chambered a round to threaten the girls, then fallen to the ground. Perhaps he didn’t realize he dropped it. It remained at the scene for five years, a silent witness until technology and detective work caught up. Additionally, the state revealed a startling pattern of behavior by Allen while he was in jail awaiting trial: they said he had confessed to the killings at least 5 or 6 times to various people. Inmates, prison staff, even phone calls to his own wife and mother – in multiple instances Allen allegedly admitted, “I did it,” or made comments directly implicating himself. One report noted he wrote a letter expressing guilt and apologized for “what happened to Abby” (curiously not mentioning Libby by name). These alleged confessions were a double-edged sword – on one hand damning, on another possibly influenced by Allen’s deteriorating mental state in isolation. Indeed, the defense argued that Allen’s mental health had crumbled in prison; a psychologist testified he was severely depressed, even psychotic at times, and that any “confessions” he made were unreliable ravings of a mentally ill man. The defense’s own expert claimed Allen told her a version of events where he planned to sexually assault the girls but got spooked by seeing a random vehicle (a narrative seemingly aimed to elicit doubt or sympathy, but one that still has Allen placing himself at the murder scene committing the acts).
Also played for jurors was the full 43-second video from Libby’s phone, enhanced for clarity. This was the first time the public (via the jury) saw the entire clip beyond the previously released bits. It showed the girls on the Monon High Bridge, clearly frightened as the man approaches and orders them down the hill. The jury could see “Bridge Guy” in motion and hear more audio, likely cementing in their minds that Richard Allen – whose own voice and appearance were compared – was indeed that man. In fact, an Indiana State Police trooper testified that after listening to hundreds of Allen’s recorded jail calls, he was certain Allen’s voice matched the voice saying “down the hill.” Jurors also saw video excerpts of Allen’s interviews with police. In one interview from October 2022, confronted with evidence, Allen showed curious body language and inconsistencies. Notably, when his wife Kathy was brought into the interrogation room after his arrest, Allen cried to her: “I’m not capable of something like this.” Yet, other comments he made hinted at guilt – during the search of their house, Kathy recalled Allen muttering in despair, “It’s over… it doesn’t matter.”
After two weeks of testimony, the jury deliberated just a few days. On November 11, 2024, they returned a verdict: Richard Allen was guilty on all counts – two counts of murder and two counts of felony murder (murder during the commission of another crime, i.e., kidnapping). Family and community members in the gallery let out audible cries of relief and emotion. Some hugged and whispered prayers of thanks. But as Libby’s grandmother Becky later said, it was not a moment of joy so much as of solemn satisfaction. The empty chairs at holiday dinners would still be empty; Abby and Libby were still gone.
Allen showed little reaction as the verdict was read. A little over a month later, on December 20, 2024, Judge Fran Gull imposed the maximum sentence: 65 years for each murder, to run consecutively – 130 years in prison. Effectively a life sentence for the then-52-year-old. In a powerful statement, the local sheriff credited a single person, volunteer tip-filer Kathy Shank, for cracking the case after all those years – underscoring how one person’s dedication can change everything. Allen was transferred to a state correctional facility to begin serving his time, under extra security as a known child-killer who might be targeted by other inmates.
Even after conviction, the case has continued to see developments. In early 2025, some evidence was finally made public that had long been shielded. Videos of Allen’s police interrogation and snippets of his phone call confessions were released, allowing the community to see and hear for themselves what had only been described in court. Meanwhile, a support website claiming Allen was wrongfully convicted shockingly posted the full cellphone video from Libby’s phone (the portion shown at trial) online in March 2025. This unauthorized leak outraged the victims’ families, who had never wanted the girls’ final moments shared broadly. It felt like a disrespectful bid to spin the narrative, but ultimately it only reaffirmed why the conviction happened. Allen’s defense attorneys, for their part, have filed an appeal, alleging various errors in the trial and hoping to overturn the verdict. Legal experts suggest such appeals face an uphill battle, and few believe Allen will ever walk free again.
Unanswered Questions and Enduring Mysteries
With Richard Allen convicted and behind bars, one might think the Delphi murder case is fully solved. In a legal sense it is – a jury found the culprit. But many lingering unanswered questions continue to haunt the families and followers of the case:
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Did Richard Allen act alone? Authorities have maintained that only one person is responsible, and Allen is that person. Yet, the odd saga of the “anthony_shots” catfish and Kegan Kline leaves a cloud of curiosity. Did Allen have any connection to Kline or the girls online? Was Libby lured to the bridge by someone, only to encounter Allen by chance? Or could Allen and Kline have been in cahoots? No direct evidence of accomplices has emerged, but online sleuths can’t help wondering if the full story involves more players. Some of Allen’s own alleged jailhouse admissions hint at others – e.g. he told a psychologist he fled because he saw a “van” nearby – which raises eyebrows about who that could have been. For now, though, no one else has been charged, and Kline’s involvement appears coincidental or tangential at best.
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What was the motive? This is perhaps the most painful unknown. Why would a seemingly ordinary middle-aged man brutally kill two children he apparently had no relationship with? Investigators haven’t offered a clear motive. Prosecutors suggested it might have begun as an attempted sexual assault (Allen’s own supposed statement supports this), but no DNA or definitive evidence of sexual assault was found. It may be that Allen himself doesn’t fully know why he did it, or won’t admit it. Was it a twisted fantasy? A crime of opportunity that spiraled out of control? The lack of answers makes it hard for families to find closure – knowing the “why” is often as important as the “who” in processing grief.
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Where is the missing evidence? Key items from the crime were never recovered publicly: the murder weapon (likely a knife or sharp object) was not found, at least as far as is known. Also, since articles of clothing were believed taken as “souvenirs,” one wonders what Allen did with them. Did he keep them hidden as morbid trophies? Destroy them? Could they still be out there, buried or tossed in the river? Without a confession detailing these things, we may never know. Likewise, if Allen indeed wrote or carved some kind of “signature” at the scene (some rumor suggested an “F” shape of sticks or blood on a tree – unconfirmed officially), the meaning of that died with his silence.
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Could anything have been done differently? In the aftermath, it’s hard not to second-guess. The fact that Allen was overlooked due to a clerical error is a bitter pill. Had that tip been followed up in 2017, could the girls’ families have been spared five long years of agony? Law enforcement has quietly acknowledged the mistake but pointed out the sheer volume of leads made it challenging. The case highlights the importance of thorough data management in investigations. For the families, there’s also the tormenting question: what if Libby and Abby hadn’t gone to the trail that day? What if Kelsi had stayed with them, or if they had had an adult along? Survivor’s guilt can weigh heavily, especially on Libby’s sister who dropped them off. Kelsi German has been open about struggling with that, though everyone assures her she did nothing wrong and could never have imagined such evil would strike in broad daylight.
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The impact on Delphi going forward. Even with a conviction, Delphi’s collective psyche bears scars. Parents remain more vigilant; kids aren’t as free to roam as they once were. The Monon High Bridge itself, once a quirky local attraction, is now loaded with dark infamy – though some residents feel going there to remember Abby and Libby is a way to reclaim it. The community came together to build positive memorials, yet the specter of the murders will always loom. The case also spurred important conversations about internet safety for teens (given the catfishing angle) and small-town police resources (the need for state/federal help on complex cases).
Finally, one open question that may never be answered publicly is the full content of Libby’s video and audio. Only short excerpts have been seen/heard outside law enforcement, and a transcript at trial was limited. People wonder if the girls said anything else to the attacker, if more of his voice was captured, or if the actual murders or struggle can be heard. If so, that remains sealed out of respect, and rightfully so. The families likely have been spared those worst details.
In the end, some questions will forever haunt this case. But what is certain is the bravery Abby and Libby showed in the face of unimaginable terror. Libby’s presence of mind to record and Abby’s steadfast companionship with her friend were acts of courage. Those final acts ultimately helped bring justice. The girls’ families hold onto that, knowing that in their last moments, the best friends had each other’s backs.
Key Individuals in the Case
Abigail “Abby” Williams (Victim) – 13-year-old Delphi girl who loved volleyball, art, and adventures with her best friend Libby. Abby was kind-hearted and loyal. She spent her final moments alongside Libby, showing courage and friendship. Abby’s memory lives on through her family (mother Anna and others) and community tributes like the memorial park.
Liberty “Libby” German (Victim) – 14-year-old who was outgoing, athletic, and tech-savvy. Raised by grandparents Mike and Becky Patty, Libby was often called a hero for recording evidence on her phone during the crime. She was protective of her friends and full of life. Libby is remembered as a bright spirit; her family continues to champion her legacy and advocate for justice for other victims.
Kelsi German – Libby’s older sister (just 16 at the time) who dropped the girls off at the trails. Kelsi was the last to see them alive and has carried the weight of that day since. She became a vocal advocate for her sister, frequently speaking at memorial events and in media to keep the case alive. Kelsi’s strength and openness about her grief have touched many.
Mike & Becky Patty – Libby’s grandparents and guardians. Mike (Libby’s grandpa) and Becky (grandma) raised her from a young age and loved her as their own daughter. They became the face of the families in press conferences, with Becky often tearfully pleading for answers. Becky’s small but powerful act of asking neighbors to turn on orange porch lights in 2017 became a statewide symbol of hope and remembrance for Abby and Libby. The Pattys have also been deeply involved in establishing the memorial park and supporting law enforcement.
Anna Williams – Abby’s mother. Anna endured unimaginable pain losing her only child. Though more private than the Pattys, she has shared loving memories of Abby’s constant smile and their close bond. Anna supported the creation of Abby & Libby Memorial Park and often thanks the community for not forgetting her daughter.
Sheriff (then) Tobe Leazenby & Sheriff (now) Tony Liggett – Tobe Leazenby was Carroll County Sheriff in 2017 when the murders occurred, and Tony Liggett was a deputy who later became Sheriff. Both men were involved in the investigation from day one. Liggett in particular took a personal lead in the case by 2022, interviewing Allen. They worked alongside state police and faced criticism during the five-year search for the suspect, but ultimately helped bring the case to its resolution.
Superintendent Doug Carter (Indiana State Police) – The public face of the investigation at many press conferences. Supt. Carter became well-known for his impassioned addresses to the unknown killer and to the community, insisting “We will not stop.” His dramatic, sometimes cryptic statements fueled a lot of public speculation, but also kept the case in the spotlight. Carter visibly poured his heart into the case, choking up when the arrest was finally announced.
Detective Jerry Holeman (ISP) & other Investigators – Det. Holeman was one of the lead investigators assigned. Countless FBI agents, ISP detectives, and local officers put in thousands of hours on this case. A special mention goes to Kathy Shank (Swank), the civilian evidence clerk whose sharp eye in 2022 uncovered the misfiled tip about Richard Allen – a true hero behind the scenes.
Richard “Ricky” Allen (Convicted Killer) – A lifelong Delphi resident (born 1972) with no prior criminal history. He worked as a pharmacy tech at CVS and was married with an adult daughter. Outwardly friendly and unremarkable, Allen’s dark alter ego as “Bridge Guy” went undetected for years. After his arrest, his shocked wife Kathy insisted “My husband’s not a monster,” describing him as a devoted family man. But a jury concluded that on Feb 13, 2017, Allen committed unspeakable acts. He is now an inmate serving a 130-year sentence. The question of “why he did it” remains largely unanswered, as he continues to profess innocence despite evidence and alleged confessions.
Kegan Kline (Catfish Suspect) – A young man from Peru, Indiana (about 40 minutes away) who created the fake “anthony_shots” online persona to exploit underage girls. Kline exchanged messages with Libby (and perhaps other Delphi teens) around the time of the murders, making him a figure of interest. Though never charged in relation to Abby and Libby’s deaths, many believe he might know more than he admits. Kline was convicted on child pornography charges and is imprisoned. Investigators have not established any proven collaboration between Kline and Allen, and it’s entirely possible the timing was coincidental. But his involvement in the narrative illustrates the dangers that lurk online for kids and added a complex layer to the case.
Ronald Logan (Early Suspect, Deceased) – The 77-year-old man who owned the property where the girls’ bodies were found. Logan had a history of minor offenses and lied about his activities on the day of the murder, which made investigators suspicious enough to search his home. Some early clues (the staging of bodies, etc.) pointed vaguely toward him, and for a long time armchair detectives online were convinced Logan must be “Bridge Guy” due to proximity and an initial sketch resemblance. However, law enforcement never found hard evidence against him, and in fact, Richard Allen’s later arrest largely exonerated Logan in hindsight. Logan passed away in January 2022, before seeing the case solved. Unfounded rumors persist in some circles that he was involved, but authorities have essentially cleared him posthumously.
Nicholas McLeland (Prosecutor) – The Carroll County prosecutor who oversaw the case against Allen. He was the one who formally charged Allen and led the courtroom battle to convict him. McLeland worked tirelessly with the team of state attorneys general on the prosecution. During closing arguments, he thanked Abby and Libby themselves for their role in securing justice (a reference to Libby’s recording and Abby hiding the phone). His dedication helped ensure a solid case that withstood the defense’s attempts at misdirection.