November 12, 2025 • 31 mins
In this gripping true crime episode, we uncover the chilling case of Charlene Mae Dobbins, a pregnant woman brutally decapitated in Ocala, Florida in May 2023 after fleeing her abusive husband, Kenneth Dobbins. Listeners will hear every detail of the investigation, from the discovery of her body and head in separate locations, to the shocking twist involving a hidden locket revealing her unborn child’s father. We explore the roles of suspects Travis Dobbins and Gerald Motes, the forensic evidence, circular saw murder, police interrogations, and the eventual arrest. Perfect for fans of true crime podcasts, murder mysteries, domestic abuse cases, and real-life criminal investigations, this story exposes the terrifying lengths one man went to control his family and the enduring hope left behind.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
This is true crime case files. Today's story takes us
to Ocala, Florida, in May of twenty twenty three. It's
a case that shocked even veteran investigators, a story of
domestic abuse, betrayal, and a woman's desperate attempt to start over.
Her name was Charling May Dobbins, and she was five
months pregnant when her life came to a brutal end
(00:20):
in May of twenty twenty three. The heat in Ocala,
Florida was already thick and sticky, the kind that made
the air shimmer above the pavement. That Friday afternoon, May nineteenth,
Charling May Dobbins, aged thirty six, stepped out of a
taxi in front of the Motel six off Silver Springs Boulevard.
It was just after four pm. She clutched a small
floral duffel bag and rested her other hand on her
(00:42):
swollen belly. She was five months pregnant. The motel clerk
later remembered her as sweet spoken, but shaky. Charlene asked
softly if anyone else was registered under the name Dobbins.
When told no, she gave a small knot and paid
cash for one night. The clerk noticed her hands trembling
slightly as she signed the form. Her eyes, he said,
looked like someone trying to be brave. Charleing lived just
(01:06):
a few miles away, but had come here to hide.
For months, she'd been planning her escape from her husband,
Kenneth Kenny Dobbins, a man known in town for his temper.
Friends said she had been talking about leaving since February,
but fear always pulled her back. That Friday, she finally
packed a small bag diapers, her sonogram photo, and a
(01:26):
few clothes and decided to run. Her plan was to
take a bust to Valdosta, Georgia, where her older sister
Melissa lived. Melissa had promised to help her start over,
maybe even find work in the small apartment. Charlene worked
part time at the Baseline Feed and Supply Store, a
dusty little shop where she stocked bags of force feed
and organized shelves of chicken pellets. She wasn't paid much,
(01:48):
but she liked the people there. Her coworkers called her
Sunshine because she always showed up smiling egon on bad days.
Every Friday, she baked banana bread for the staff. She'd
hummed George Strait songs while sweeping the aisles, her soft
Southern voice carrying over the sound of the ceiling fans.
But behind the smiles, Charling carried heavy secrets. She wore
(02:09):
long sleeves, even in Florida's heat. When someone asked why,
she'd laughed off and say she got cold easily. In truth,
the sleeves hid bruises. Police records later showed she had
called nine one one three times in twenty twenty two.
Each time she told officers her husband just got hot tempered.
She never pressed charges. Her pregnancy had given her courage.
(02:30):
Friends said she started talking more about the baby, about names,
nursery colors, and leaving town. She tell them, this little
one's my second chance. She even saved small amounts of
cash in an envelope hidden inside her bible. That day,
at the Motel six, Charlene checked into room one hundred
and eight, a small corner unit with faded curtains and
(02:51):
an old air conditioner that rattled when it started. She
ordered takeout from the Wendy's across the street and watched
TV for a while. At seven forty three pm, security
cameras showed her stepping outside to smoke, then glancing nervously
toward the parking lot. The pregnancy was supposed to be
her fresh start, her way out of years of fear
and pain. She planned to leave early the next morning,
(03:13):
heading north towards safety, but Charlie made Dobbins never made
it to Valdosta. Two days later, on the morning of
May twenty one, twenty twenty three, the Florida sun was
already beating down on Cowby Road four hundred and seventy five,
just south of Okalla. The temperature had climbed into the
upper eighties by nine am when a Marian County Road
maintenance crew pulled their orange work truck onto the shoulder.
(03:36):
They were clearing debrieze from a drainage ditch after a
week of heavy rain. One of the workers, Daniel perriz
Age forty two, was raking out sticks and trash when
he saw something strange tangled in the reeds. At first,
he thought it was a mannequin. Then as he stepped closer,
the smell hit him, thick and sour in the humid air,
he saw what looked like a woman's arm. Karaz dropped
(03:58):
his rake. He staggered back, yelling for his partner, Eddie
Coleman to call nine to one one. Perres later told
reporters his hands were shaking so hard he could barely
hold his von. You see things like that on TV,
he said, but never for real. When deputies arrived just
after nine thirty am, the men were still sitting in
their truck, pale and silent. In the shallow ditch. Below
(04:20):
them lay the body of a woman badly mutilated. The
victim had been decapitated, her torso wrapped loosely in a
torn motel sheet. One rig was broken, and there were
several deep cuts around her neck and chest. The ground
nearby was soaked with both mud and blood. Detectives would
later identify the victim as Charlene made Dobbins, the missing
(04:41):
woman who had checked into the Motel six on Silver
Springs Boulevard two days earlier. Around noon, as investigators were
still processing the ditch site, a Public's grocery store employee
in southeast Okala called police to report a foul smell
behind the store. He had been moving carts when he
noticed a plastic trash bin leaking dark flot Inside, detectives
(05:02):
found a towel printed with cartoon reindeer and wrapped inside
it a human head. Forensics teams carefully transported both the
body and the head to the medical Examiner's office. They
worked through the hot afternoon as passing cars slowed to
watch the scene. Along County Road four hundred and seventy
five was taked off with yellow ribbon and traffic backed
(05:22):
up for nearly a mile. By early evening, Sheriff's deputies
confirmed that the remains belonged to Charling Motel staff recalled
her checking in alone, carrying a floral duffel and paying cash.
Now her name was the center of a murder investigation
that would soon expose a web of violence and betrayal
stretching far beyond that quiet stretch of Florida Highway. For
(05:42):
the people of Okalla, the news spread fast, whispered in
feed stores, diners, and church parking lots. Everyone knew sunshine
from the Baseline Road feed shop. No one could believe
that the gentlewoman who baked banana bread every Friday had
been found in pieces only miles from home. Detect sdives
from the Marion County Sheriff's Office arrived at the drainage
(06:03):
ditch on County Road four hundred and seventy five within
twenty minutes of the nine to one to one call.
It was still mid morning on May twenty one, twenty
twenty three, and the air was heavy with heat and
the smell of standing water. The sun reflected off the
metal of patrol cars parked along the roadside as officers
stretched yellow tape around the muddy scene. Lieutenant Marcy Fulton,
(06:23):
a fifteen year veteran with the department, was one of
the first investigators to arrive. She would later call the
scene the worst I've seen in my entire career. What
lay before them was shocking. The torso of a woman
lying face down in the ditch, partially covered by reeds
and mud. The body showed cigarette burns, a broken rib,
and deep slicing wounds around the neck where the head
(06:44):
had been severed. Detectives worked carefully in the hot May sun,
taking photographs, collecting fibers, and marking footprints with small orange flags.
The ditch water was a mix of brown mud and
dark streaks of dried blood. A few yards away, technicians
found a torn motel bedchee later identified as coming from
room one hundred and eight at the Motel six where
(07:04):
Charling had checked in two days earlier. The road nearby
was briefly closed as deputies used drones to map the
scene from above. Using luminil, a special chemical that glows
in contact with blood, they traced splatter patterns leading toward
the road. Shoulders digesting the body had been dragged and dumped.
As the investigation continued, word came from another part of town.
(07:25):
Around one fifteen p m. A Public's grocery store employee
called police after finding a plastic trash cart leaking blood
behind the store on Silver Springs Boulevard. The employee, a
nineteen year old stock clerk named Even Thomas, said he
had gone to empty the bin when he noticed a
dark red trail running down the concrete. When detectives opened
the cart, they found a towel printed with cartoon reindeer
(07:48):
wrapped tightly around something heavy. Inside was the severed head
of a woman. Forensic examiners quickly determined it belonged to
the body found earlier that morning. The head and torso
were taken to the Marion County Medical Examiner's Office for analysis.
That night, forensic teams confirmed the horrifying truth the victim
had been decapitated with the circular saw, the same type
(08:11):
later found in Kenneth Dobbins's backyard shed, a Craftsman seven
and a quarter inch model used for cutting wood. Sawdust
particles recovered from the trash cart matched the residue inside
the tool. Blood pattern analysis suggested Charlene have been alive,
though likely unconscious, when the first cut was made. Detectives
work passed some down their flashlights, sweeping through the roadside
(08:32):
weeds and puddles. Lieutenant Fulton and her team cataloged every
piece of evidence, tire tracks, cigarette butts, a length of
duct tape, and a single broken hairclip. By the time
they packed up for the night, the crime scene stretched
more than thirty yards. The details were brutal, but they
all pointed to one thing. This killing had not been random.
(08:53):
It was personal, planned and carried out with rage. For investigators,
the focus now shifted from recovery to finding who had
done it and why. By the afternoon of May twenty one,
twenty twenty three, as investigators processed the two crime scenes,
one name rose to the top of their list. Kenneth
Kenny Dobbins, age forty nine. Kenny was Charlene's husband, a
(09:15):
former h VAC technician who had once run a small
repair business in Okalla. By twenty twenty three, though most
people in town knew him less for fixing air conditioners
and more for his erratic temper and strange talk about
government conspiracies. Neighbors on southeast ninety second Place Road said
he spent long nights in his yard, drinking beer and
ranting about hidden satellites and mine ships. It was also
(09:38):
known for his violent behavior toward Charlene. Neighbors recalled seeing
him light small fires in their front art, laughing while
he chased his wife NATed with lighter fluid. He'd say
he liked to see her dance, one neighbor told Dickadies.
Another said they often heard screaming and the sound of
last breaking. Police records confirmed that Charlene had called nine
to one one three times in twenty twenty two, each
(10:00):
time reporting that her husband had heard her, but every
time she later retracted her statement, telling officers she had
started it. Kenny's reputation for rage went back years. He
had once been fired from a local eight fact company
after throwing a wrench through a truck window during an argument.
He told co workers that the world was full of
snakes and that people were watching his house. When detectives
(10:22):
from the Marion County Sheriff's Office arrived at his home
on the evening of May twenty first, Kenny was sitting
shirtless on the porch, drinking from a can of natural ice.
His hands were stained with grease, and he seemed more
annoyed than alarmed. Asked when he last saw his wife,
he said, couple days ago. She took off again. She
always does that. Inside the small, cluttered home, investigators noticed
(10:44):
a circular sauce sitting on a workbench in the shed.
The blade streaked with a dark residue. A red pickup
truck in the driveway matched the tire tracks found at
the ditch. Kenny agreed to come in for questioning. At
the station, The interview began calmly. Kenny joked with detectives,
leaning back in his chair, scratching his beard and saying,
you people always think it's the husband. But when pressed
(11:06):
about the saw, his tone shifted. He grew defensive and angry,
pounding the table with his hand. Then came his grotesquely
trivial explanation for what had happened. She locked herself in
the bleeping bathroom. He said, I had to take a
bleeping dump, so I kicked the door in and things
just went sideways. Detectives asked what sideways meant. Kenny smirked
(11:29):
and said, I grabbed her by the hair and I
just saw red. When asked how her body ended up headless,
he shrugged. She fell on the saw, he said flatly.
The statement stunned investigators. Lieutenant Marcy Fulton, leading the interrogation,
Blater said he talked about it like he was describing
a car accident. No emotion, no remorse. Forensics would later
(11:51):
prove that Charling could not have fallen on the saw.
Blood patterns showed she had been alive, though likely unconscious
when the first cut was made. Still, at that point
in the investigation, detectives needed more to make an arrest.
They released Kenny that night, but placed him under twenty
four hour surveillance, knowing in their gut that this was
(12:12):
not a random killing. In the quiet o'cllor night, as lightning,
bugs blinked in the trees and the smell of rain
hung in the air, investigators began piecing together the final
hours of Charlen's life and the violent rage of the
man she had tried so desperately to escape. By the
third day of the investigation, May twenty two, twenty twenty three,
(12:33):
detectives had already built a grim picture of life inside
the Dobbins household. As they continued interviewing family members, one
name stood out Travis Dobbins, Kennett's twenty one year old
son from a prior marriage. Travis lived in a small
rental trailer on the edge of Ocalla, near an autopart's yard.
He worked nights at a local tire shop off State
(12:53):
Road two hundred, patching flats and balancing wheels until close
to midnight. Coworkers said he mostly kept to himself, often
showing up late and smelling like smoke and motor oil.
When detectives arrived at the shop that Monday afternoon, Travis
was outside in a grease stained uniform changing a tire
on a whiteness on. He looked startled when investigators showed
(13:14):
their badges. His first words were, is my dad in
trouble again? At the Marion County Sheriff's Office, detectives presented
Travis with a series of text messages found on Charley's phone.
The messages revealed a disturbing relationship, something far beyond normal
family boundaries. Over Christmas. In New Year's Kenneth had allegedly
allowed his son conjugal time with Charlene, a twisted arrangement
(13:37):
he bragged about to friends while drunk. Several witnesses later
confirmed that Kenneth would laugh about it in local bars,
claiming a real man chairs everything under his roof. Travis
sat pale and shaking as the detectives read the text aloud.
His voice cracked when he said, I didn't touch her
since January, I swear. He added that his father made
(13:57):
it happen, and that he'd been too scared to fight back.
Detectives described him as more frightened of his father than
remorseful about the abuse. During questioning, Travis kept his eyes
on the table. Speaking in short, flat sentences, He said
he had worked his shift at the tire shop the
entire night Charling disappeared. Investigators checked his time card and
(14:18):
security footage, confirming he had clocked in at six four
pm on May nineteen and didn't clock out until eleven
fifty eight pm. Still, the tone of his interview unsettled detectives.
Lieutenant Marcy Fulton later wrote in her report. He wasn't angry,
he wasn't sad. He was cold like drival. Just nothing there.
(14:39):
Travis told them his father had grown real dark in
recent months. Kenneth spent nights drinking natural ice and muttering
about people stealing his thoughts. Travis said his father sometimes
blasted Old Toby Keith's songs in the middle of the
night or fired his pistol into the dirt, just to
remind folks he was bon Detectives pressed him for more
details about the last time he'd seen Charlie. Said that
(15:00):
she was crying in the kitchen sometime in January, wearing
a blue T shirt and fuzzy socks with cartoon reindeer.
She told me she was leaving him, He said, I
told her she should. I told her he's not going
to stop until he killed somebody. When detectives asked if
he believed his father was capable of murder, Travis nodded slowly.
He's capable of anything when he's drinking, he said. After
(15:22):
three hours, Travis was released. His alibi had checked out,
and his phone records showed no contact with Charline after January. Still,
investigators left the interview uneasy. In the sterile light of
the interrogation room, Travis's fear seemed real, but so did
his silence. One detective later described it best. He looked
like a kid who'd been living in hell his whole life.
(15:44):
But he also looked like someone who'd learned never to
tell what really happens. There. By May twenty five, twenty
twenty three, the investigation had taken a shocking turn. The
Marion County Medical Examiner's office was conducting the autopsy of
Charling May Dobbins when a discovery stopped the room cold.
As the examiner examined Charlene's airway, they found a small
silver locket lodge deep in her throat. It had likely
(16:07):
been forced there while she was still alive or during
her final moments. When technicians carefully opened the locket, they
found a tiny, folded ultrasound photo and the words Daddy
Lucas scrawled in blue pen on the back. The photo
was faint from moisture, but the date stamp showed April tenth,
twenty twenty three, just over a month before Charlene's death.
(16:28):
Investigators quickly realized she must have swallowed the locket while
trying to flee, desperate to keep her husband from discovering it.
Inside the ultrasound image, the outline of the baby was clear,
five months along the same stage Charlene had been when
she checked into the Motel six off Silver Springs Boulevard.
To her family, it was the final sign of her
pope and her secret she'd been carrying another man's child.
(16:51):
Detectives traced the name Lucas to Lucas Green, a forty
year old co worker from the feed store on Baseline Road.
Lucas had started working there in late twenty twenty two,
helping load hay and restock grain bags. He was nome
as quiet and dependable, the kind of man who always
offered to carry the heavy fee for customers. Coworkers later
told police they'd seen Charlene and Lucas growing close in
(17:13):
the spring. They would eat lunch together behind the store,
sharing cold cokes and talking in hush tones. In April,
Charlene confided to a friend that she was planning to
leave Kenneth and start over in Valdosta, Georgia, where her
sister lived, and that Lucas had agreed to help her move.
When detectives checked her phone records, they found daily calls
and messages between the two. On May eighteen, the night
(17:36):
before her death, she had texted him got room booked
we'll see you soon. That message was never answered. Lieutenant
Marcy Fulton later said that Lockett told us everything about motive.
Kenneth realized the baby was in his When authorities informed
Kenneth of the discovery while he sat in the Marion
County jail, his reaction was chilling. He reportedly smirked and said,
(17:58):
guess she took her secret to the grave. Did she?
The medical examiner ruled Charleing's cause of death as homicide
by sharp forced trauma, with evidence showing she had been
beaten before being decapitated. Her baby, a five month old
female fetus, was listed among the victims. Charlene's sister, Angela May,
later gave the baby a name Hope. She told reporters
(18:20):
that's what Charling wanted, Hope for a new life. Every
few weeks, Angela still visits the roadside memorial off County
Road four hundred and seventy five, where Charlene's body was found.
The spot is marked with a white cross, sun faded flowers,
and a small framed ultrasound picture identical to the one
in the locket. In the soft hum of passing cars
in the Florida heat rising off the assphol Angela kneels
(18:43):
by the cross and whispers the same words every time
you made it out, sister, you and hope both. By
late May of twenty twenty three, detectives were still piecing
together the last days of Charlene Dobbin's life, and their
search soon turned toward one of Kenneth's closest drinking buddies,
Gerald Gerry Mots, aged fifty three. Moates, was well known
(19:04):
around of Kala's east side, often seen hanging around the
Speedway gas station off Silver Springs Boulevard, leaning against his
faded green Ford Ranger with a can of natural ice
in hand. Locals described him as wary and sunburned, with
nicotine stained teeth and a voice that rasped from years
of chainsmoking Marlborough's. When detectives arrived at his small trailer
(19:25):
home behind an abandoned car wash on Highway forty, they
found him sitting on a lawn chair, shirtless, listening to
Lynyrd Skynderd on a portable radio. At first, he seemed
relaxed until they brought up Charley's name. During questioning, Mots
admitted that back in February, Kenneth Dobbins had allegedly sold
Charling to him for three hundred dollars, calling it part
(19:45):
of a beck gone wrong. Moates described the exchange as
just a dumb joke. After a night of heavy drinking,
he said I could rent her for a weekend, Mots
told detectives, shaking his head, I thought he was kidding.
I thought we were just talking trash. When pressed further,
Mots said he met Charlen once afterward, claiming they only
talked about her getting out and that nothing sexual happened.
(20:08):
She looked scared, he said quietly. I told her she
needed to leave that man. Investigators didn't believe much of
his story. Surveillance's footage from the Motel six parking lot
on May nineteenth, the evening Charling checked in, showed a
truck matching Moats's Ford Rangers circling the lodder on seven
forty five p m. The truck's distinctive dented fender and
(20:28):
rusted tailbate made it easy to identify when detectives confronted
him with the footage, Motes grew defensive. I was just
looking for Kenny, he said. He owed me gas money.
He denied ever entering the motel or seeing Charling that night.
Detectives noted that his story changed several times. At first,
he claimed he hadn't been near Silver Springs Boulevard in months. Later,
(20:51):
he admitted driving by just to see if Kenny was
still staying there. His explanations for why he was in
the area didn't add up. Inside his trailer, investigators found
an old circular saw, similar to the one used in
the murder, but tests showed it hadn't been used recently.
They also found text messages from Kenneth Dobbins earlier that month,
short erratic messages. They read, she's running, but want to
(21:13):
see her one more time, and another that said simply
bring cash. Motes swore the texts were just bar talk
and that he never responded. Detectives couldn't prove otherwise, but
the timing made them uneasy. Neighbors later told police they
saw Motes's truck leave his trailer around dusk on May
nineteen and return after midnight. When asked what he was
(21:35):
doing during those hours, Motes just shrugged. Drive him around,
he said, thinking about stupid stuff. Lieutenant Marcy Fulton later
called Motes the wild card. In her report, she wrote,
He's the kind of man we'll do something awful and
convince himself it was just a joke. Despite the suspicious
timing and the disturbing bet, detectives couldn't time Motes directly
(21:57):
to the murder. With no DNA, no fingerprints, and only
blurry footage, the case against him stalled. Still to this day.
Many in Okaala believe Motes knew more than he ever said.
In the parking lot of the speedway where he still
hangs around. Some locals whisper that if Charling hadn't crossed
paths with Jerry Motes that spring, she might have made
it safely to Valdosta. By the last week of May
(22:19):
twenty twenty three, investigators with the Marion County Sheriff's Office
had built a solid case. All the evidence, blood spatter,
saw residue, motel key card, and GPS data pointed squarely
to one man, Kenneth Kenny Dobbins, Charling's forty nine year
old husband. Forensics technicians spent days analyzing every inch of
Kenneth's white Ford F one hundred and fifty. Small droplets
(22:43):
of blood found in the truck bed matched Charlene's DNA.
The saw residue tiny metal shavings in dry tissue was
consistent with the craftsmen circular saw seas from his backyard shed,
the same saw that had been used to decapitate her.
Detectives also uncovered data from kenneth It cell phone GPS.
It showed that on the night of May nineteenth, just
(23:04):
hours after Charlene checked into the Motel six on Silver
Springs Boulevard, his phone pained near the motel's parking lot. Later,
between one o'clock and three o'clock am, the signal moved
along County Road four hundred and seventy five, the same
stretch of road where Charlene's body was discovered two days later.
The motel key card recovered from Kenneth's truck placed him
(23:25):
at the scene. Even more firmly, his fingerprints were found
on it, along with traces of dried blood along the edge.
Detectives concluded Charlene had tried to flee her motel room,
but Kenneth caught her before she could make it out
of town. When deputies arrived at Kenneth's small yellow house
on southeast ninety second Place Road the afternoon of May
twenty seventh. He was sitting shirtless on the porch, drinking
(23:47):
a can of bush Light and listening to country radio
when the patrol cars pulled up. He leaned back in
his chair, looked at the officers and grinned, I all
going to make me famous, h he said. The deputies,
wearing gloves and bulletproof vests, ordered him to stand and
place his hands behind his back. Kenneth didn't resist. Gussie
all figured it out, he said, still smirking. He was
(24:07):
handcuffed and taken to the Marion County Jail, where he
gave a short and bizarre statement. He repeated the same
excuse he had given during earlier questioning. She locked herself
in the bathroom. I had to take a dumb things
went sideways, he claimed. He grabbed her by the hair
and that she fell on the saw. Investigators noted his
tone was almost bored, as though describing a household argument
(24:30):
rather than a brutal killing, but detectives believed his true
motive was jealousy and control. In Charlene's phone, they found
text messages between her and Lucas Green, a co worker
from the feed store. The messages showed plans for Charling
to leave town that weekend. One text from Lucas read
gas tanks full. We leave after your shift Daldosta by midnight.
(24:52):
DNA tests later confirmed the truth Kenneth had suspected but
refused to admit. The baby Charling carried was Lucas's eye his.
When confronted with this fact, Kenneth reportedly laughed and said figures.
She never could keep her mouth shut. Charlene's sister, Melissa May,
broke down in tears when detectives informed her of the arrest.
He killed her because she wanted peace, she said, quietly,
(25:15):
because she finally had hope. In late May, as news
spread through O'calla, a small memorial grew near the drainage
ditch on County Road four hundred and seventy five plastic flowers,
baby socks, and a wooden cross that read Charlene and
Baby Hope, Loved and Free. The murder trial of Kenneth
Kenny Dobbins began on January eighth, twenty twenty five, inside
(25:39):
the Marion County Courthouse in downtown o'calla. Outside, the winter
air was cool and still. Local news vans lined the street,
their antennas raised high as reporters waited for a glimpse
of the man accused of one of Ocala's most brutal
crimes in years. Inside the courthouse, the gallery was filled
with quiet tension. Charlene's family, including her older sister Melissa May,
(26:01):
sat together in the front row holding a framed copy
of Charlene's ultrasound picture. A small image of the baby,
nicknamed Hope by the family, rested on the wooden bench
between them, like a silent witness. The prosecutor, Assistant State
Attorney Dana Klein, aged forty five, led the case for
the State of Florida. A calm but firm presence, Climb
(26:22):
was known for her sharp preparation and her unflinching delivery.
In her opening statement, she told jurors this was not
an accident. This was a man whose pride mattered more
than a human life. She walked the jury through the
timeline of May twenty twenty three, Charlene's escape from home,
her brief stay at the Motel six, and her brutal
death days later. Klein presented forensic photos, DNA test results,
(26:47):
and the craftsman's circular saw blade marked with Charlene's blood.
Jurors were shown side by side photos of Kenneth's shed
and the matching tool found there. It also saw text
messages between Charlene and Lucas Green, the feed store co
worker and father of her unborn child. When Charlene's sister,
Melissa took the stand, she spoke softly but clearly. She
(27:08):
described the years of abuse, the phone calls Charling made
about starting over, and the day she received the devastating
news she was finally ready to leave him. Melissa said,
clutching a tissue, she just wanted her baby to grow
up safe. The defense attorney, Mark Gibbons, aged fifty two,
hainted a different picture. Gibbons told the jury that Kenneth
(27:29):
had snapped in a moment of uncontrollable rage and never
meant to kill. He described his client as a broken man,
humiliated and overwhelmed. Hiveins argued that the murder lacked premeditation,
calling it a crime of passion fueled by jealousy. Kenneth
Dobbins sat motionless during most of the trial of his
arms crossed his face blank. When photos of Charlene's injuries
(27:52):
were shown, he looked away but never cried. In the gallery,
Melissa covered her mouth and wept quietly. After five days
of testimony and only three hours of deliberation, the jury
returned with a verdict of guilty of first degree murder.
The courtroom fell silent as the clerk read the decision aloud.
Melissa reached for her mother's hand and whispered, we got
(28:14):
her justice. At sentencing, the judge called Dobbins's crime a
barbaric act born of control, jealousy, and hate. He sentenced
him to life in prison without the possibility of parole.
Outside the courthouse, the sky turned orange as the sun
set over downtown O'calla. Melissa told reporters there's no real
peace after something like this, but at least he can't
(28:36):
hurt anyone else. Inside her car, on the passenger seat
rested the same ultrasound photo Charline had carried with her
to the motel, the one that proved she had been
running not just for herself, but for the baby she
never got to hold. After his sentencing in January twenty
twenty five, Kenneth Dobbins was transferred to Florida State Prison
in Rayford, a maximum security facility in northeast Florida. Prison
(29:01):
officials reported that he showed no remorse for his actions.
According to interviews with fellow inmates, he often spoke about
Charline in a cold, calculating way, saying he was teaching
her a lesson. He refused to participate in counseling or
rehabilitation programs, and guards noted his interactions were marked by
tension and intimidation. Kenneth's son, Travis Dobbins, twenty one, left
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o'cala shortly after the trial concluded. He moved to Gainesville,
cutting nearly all ties with his father and attempting to
build a life free from the shadow of the Dobbins household.
At his new job in an auto repair shop, he
kept a low profile and avoided talking about his family,
focusing instead on routine and stability. Friend said he seemed
quieter and more withdrawn, carrying the weight of the past
(29:45):
with him. Gerald Jerry Motes, the fifty three year old
friend of Kenneth, also disappeared from the public eye. He
sold his boat, packed up his belongings, and left Marion
County Entirely local residents reported seeing him in neighboring counties,
but again in Okawa. Authorities noted that while he had
never been charged in Charlene's murder, the case had left
(30:06):
a permit mark on his reputation in town. For the police,
the case had long term impacts as well. Lieutenant Marcy Fulton,
who had led the investigation, was promoted to captain in
early twenty twenty five. She continued to oversee violent crime investigations,
but made time each year to visit the roadside memorial
along County Road four hundred and seventy five, where Charlene's
(30:28):
body was found. She often left a small bouquet of
flowers or a single candle, reflecting on the lives lost
and the importance of vigilance in cases of domestic abuse.
Charlene's sister, Melissa May, took on the responsibility of caring
for the child Charlene had been carrying. She named the
baby Hope, honoring her sister's wish for a future free
from fear and violence. Melissa placed a small wooden cross
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beside the memorial, keeping a constant vigil for both Charlene
and Hope. Each spring, she continued one of Charlene's favorite traditions.
She baked banana bread and left it at the memorial,
a quiet gesture that connected the past with the present
and reminded the community of Charling's kindness and warmth. Though
Okalla had returned to its normal rhythm of quiet streets
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and horse farms, the memory of Charling May Dobbins lingered.
The case remained a stark reminder of the dangers of
domestic violence and the resilience of family members determined to
honor the life and dreams of someone taken too soon.
Charleing Dobbins wanted to start a new life, a peaceful
one away from years of fear. Instead, her story became
another reminder of how deadly domestic violence can be. If
(31:36):
you are someone you know is experiencing abuse, call the
National Domestic Violence Hotline at one eight hundred seventy nine
nine Save
This is true crime case files. Today's story takes us
to Ocala, Florida, in May of twenty twenty three. It's
a case that shocked even veteran investigators, a story of
domestic abuse, betrayal, and a woman's desperate attempt to start over.
Her name was Charling May Dobbins, and she was five
months pregnant when her life came to a brutal end
(00:20):
in May of twenty twenty three. The heat in Ocala,
Florida was already thick and sticky, the kind that made
the air shimmer above the pavement. That Friday afternoon, May nineteenth,
Charling May Dobbins, aged thirty six, stepped out of a
taxi in front of the Motel six off Silver Springs Boulevard.
It was just after four pm. She clutched a small
floral duffel bag and rested her other hand on her
(00:42):
swollen belly. She was five months pregnant. The motel clerk
later remembered her as sweet spoken, but shaky. Charlene asked
softly if anyone else was registered under the name Dobbins.
When told no, she gave a small knot and paid
cash for one night. The clerk noticed her hands trembling
slightly as she signed the form. Her eyes, he said,
looked like someone trying to be brave. Charleing lived just
(01:06):
a few miles away, but had come here to hide.
For months, she'd been planning her escape from her husband,
Kenneth Kenny Dobbins, a man known in town for his temper.
Friends said she had been talking about leaving since February,
but fear always pulled her back. That Friday, she finally
packed a small bag diapers, her sonogram photo, and a
(01:26):
few clothes and decided to run. Her plan was to
take a bust to Valdosta, Georgia, where her older sister
Melissa lived. Melissa had promised to help her start over,
maybe even find work in the small apartment. Charlene worked
part time at the Baseline Feed and Supply Store, a
dusty little shop where she stocked bags of force feed
and organized shelves of chicken pellets. She wasn't paid much,
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but she liked the people there. Her coworkers called her
Sunshine because she always showed up smiling egon on bad days.
Every Friday, she baked banana bread for the staff. She'd
hummed George Strait songs while sweeping the aisles, her soft
Southern voice carrying over the sound of the ceiling fans.
But behind the smiles, Charling carried heavy secrets. She wore
(02:09):
long sleeves, even in Florida's heat. When someone asked why,
she'd laughed off and say she got cold easily. In truth,
the sleeves hid bruises. Police records later showed she had
called nine one one three times in twenty twenty two.
Each time she told officers her husband just got hot tempered.
She never pressed charges. Her pregnancy had given her courage.
(02:30):
Friends said she started talking more about the baby, about names,
nursery colors, and leaving town. She tell them, this little
one's my second chance. She even saved small amounts of
cash in an envelope hidden inside her bible. That day,
at the Motel six, Charlene checked into room one hundred
and eight, a small corner unit with faded curtains and
(02:51):
an old air conditioner that rattled when it started. She
ordered takeout from the Wendy's across the street and watched
TV for a while. At seven forty three pm, security
cameras showed her stepping outside to smoke, then glancing nervously
toward the parking lot. The pregnancy was supposed to be
her fresh start, her way out of years of fear
and pain. She planned to leave early the next morning,
(03:13):
heading north towards safety, but Charlie made Dobbins never made
it to Valdosta. Two days later, on the morning of
May twenty one, twenty twenty three, the Florida sun was
already beating down on Cowby Road four hundred and seventy five,
just south of Okalla. The temperature had climbed into the
upper eighties by nine am when a Marian County Road
maintenance crew pulled their orange work truck onto the shoulder.
(03:36):
They were clearing debrieze from a drainage ditch after a
week of heavy rain. One of the workers, Daniel perriz
Age forty two, was raking out sticks and trash when
he saw something strange tangled in the reeds. At first,
he thought it was a mannequin. Then as he stepped closer,
the smell hit him, thick and sour in the humid air,
he saw what looked like a woman's arm. Karaz dropped
(03:58):
his rake. He staggered back, yelling for his partner, Eddie
Coleman to call nine to one one. Perres later told
reporters his hands were shaking so hard he could barely
hold his von. You see things like that on TV,
he said, but never for real. When deputies arrived just
after nine thirty am, the men were still sitting in
their truck, pale and silent. In the shallow ditch. Below
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them lay the body of a woman badly mutilated. The
victim had been decapitated, her torso wrapped loosely in a
torn motel sheet. One rig was broken, and there were
several deep cuts around her neck and chest. The ground
nearby was soaked with both mud and blood. Detectives would
later identify the victim as Charlene made Dobbins, the missing
(04:41):
woman who had checked into the Motel six on Silver
Springs Boulevard two days earlier. Around noon, as investigators were
still processing the ditch site, a Public's grocery store employee
in southeast Okala called police to report a foul smell
behind the store. He had been moving carts when he
noticed a plastic trash bin leaking dark flot Inside, detectives
(05:02):
found a towel printed with cartoon reindeer and wrapped inside
it a human head. Forensics teams carefully transported both the
body and the head to the medical Examiner's office. They
worked through the hot afternoon as passing cars slowed to
watch the scene. Along County Road four hundred and seventy
five was taked off with yellow ribbon and traffic backed
(05:22):
up for nearly a mile. By early evening, Sheriff's deputies
confirmed that the remains belonged to Charling Motel staff recalled
her checking in alone, carrying a floral duffel and paying cash.
Now her name was the center of a murder investigation
that would soon expose a web of violence and betrayal
stretching far beyond that quiet stretch of Florida Highway. For
(05:42):
the people of Okalla, the news spread fast, whispered in
feed stores, diners, and church parking lots. Everyone knew sunshine
from the Baseline Road feed shop. No one could believe
that the gentlewoman who baked banana bread every Friday had
been found in pieces only miles from home. Detect sdives
from the Marion County Sheriff's Office arrived at the drainage
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ditch on County Road four hundred and seventy five within
twenty minutes of the nine to one to one call.
It was still mid morning on May twenty one, twenty
twenty three, and the air was heavy with heat and
the smell of standing water. The sun reflected off the
metal of patrol cars parked along the roadside as officers
stretched yellow tape around the muddy scene. Lieutenant Marcy Fulton,
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a fifteen year veteran with the department, was one of
the first investigators to arrive. She would later call the
scene the worst I've seen in my entire career. What
lay before them was shocking. The torso of a woman
lying face down in the ditch, partially covered by reeds
and mud. The body showed cigarette burns, a broken rib,
and deep slicing wounds around the neck where the head
(06:44):
had been severed. Detectives worked carefully in the hot May sun,
taking photographs, collecting fibers, and marking footprints with small orange flags.
The ditch water was a mix of brown mud and
dark streaks of dried blood. A few yards away, technicians
found a torn motel bedchee later identified as coming from
room one hundred and eight at the Motel six where
(07:04):
Charling had checked in two days earlier. The road nearby
was briefly closed as deputies used drones to map the
scene from above. Using luminil, a special chemical that glows
in contact with blood, they traced splatter patterns leading toward
the road. Shoulders digesting the body had been dragged and dumped.
As the investigation continued, word came from another part of town.
(07:25):
Around one fifteen p m. A Public's grocery store employee
called police after finding a plastic trash cart leaking blood
behind the store on Silver Springs Boulevard. The employee, a
nineteen year old stock clerk named Even Thomas, said he
had gone to empty the bin when he noticed a
dark red trail running down the concrete. When detectives opened
the cart, they found a towel printed with cartoon reindeer
(07:48):
wrapped tightly around something heavy. Inside was the severed head
of a woman. Forensic examiners quickly determined it belonged to
the body found earlier that morning. The head and torso
were taken to the Marion County Medical Examiner's Office for analysis.
That night, forensic teams confirmed the horrifying truth the victim
had been decapitated with the circular saw, the same type
(08:11):
later found in Kenneth Dobbins's backyard shed, a Craftsman seven
and a quarter inch model used for cutting wood. Sawdust
particles recovered from the trash cart matched the residue inside
the tool. Blood pattern analysis suggested Charlene have been alive,
though likely unconscious, when the first cut was made. Detectives
work passed some down their flashlights, sweeping through the roadside
(08:32):
weeds and puddles. Lieutenant Fulton and her team cataloged every
piece of evidence, tire tracks, cigarette butts, a length of
duct tape, and a single broken hairclip. By the time
they packed up for the night, the crime scene stretched
more than thirty yards. The details were brutal, but they
all pointed to one thing. This killing had not been random.
(08:53):
It was personal, planned and carried out with rage. For investigators,
the focus now shifted from recovery to finding who had
done it and why. By the afternoon of May twenty one,
twenty twenty three, as investigators processed the two crime scenes,
one name rose to the top of their list. Kenneth
Kenny Dobbins, age forty nine. Kenny was Charlene's husband, a
(09:15):
former h VAC technician who had once run a small
repair business in Okalla. By twenty twenty three, though most
people in town knew him less for fixing air conditioners
and more for his erratic temper and strange talk about
government conspiracies. Neighbors on southeast ninety second Place Road said
he spent long nights in his yard, drinking beer and
ranting about hidden satellites and mine ships. It was also
(09:38):
known for his violent behavior toward Charlene. Neighbors recalled seeing
him light small fires in their front art, laughing while
he chased his wife NATed with lighter fluid. He'd say
he liked to see her dance, one neighbor told Dickadies.
Another said they often heard screaming and the sound of
last breaking. Police records confirmed that Charlene had called nine
to one one three times in twenty twenty two, each
(10:00):
time reporting that her husband had heard her, but every
time she later retracted her statement, telling officers she had
started it. Kenny's reputation for rage went back years. He
had once been fired from a local eight fact company
after throwing a wrench through a truck window during an argument.
He told co workers that the world was full of
snakes and that people were watching his house. When detectives
(10:22):
from the Marion County Sheriff's Office arrived at his home
on the evening of May twenty first, Kenny was sitting
shirtless on the porch, drinking from a can of natural ice.
His hands were stained with grease, and he seemed more
annoyed than alarmed. Asked when he last saw his wife,
he said, couple days ago. She took off again. She
always does that. Inside the small, cluttered home, investigators noticed
(10:44):
a circular sauce sitting on a workbench in the shed.
The blade streaked with a dark residue. A red pickup
truck in the driveway matched the tire tracks found at
the ditch. Kenny agreed to come in for questioning. At
the station, The interview began calmly. Kenny joked with detectives,
leaning back in his chair, scratching his beard and saying,
you people always think it's the husband. But when pressed
(11:06):
about the saw, his tone shifted. He grew defensive and angry,
pounding the table with his hand. Then came his grotesquely
trivial explanation for what had happened. She locked herself in
the bleeping bathroom. He said, I had to take a
bleeping dump, so I kicked the door in and things
just went sideways. Detectives asked what sideways meant. Kenny smirked
(11:29):
and said, I grabbed her by the hair and I
just saw red. When asked how her body ended up headless,
he shrugged. She fell on the saw, he said flatly.
The statement stunned investigators. Lieutenant Marcy Fulton, leading the interrogation,
Blater said he talked about it like he was describing
a car accident. No emotion, no remorse. Forensics would later
(11:51):
prove that Charling could not have fallen on the saw.
Blood patterns showed she had been alive, though likely unconscious
when the first cut was made. Still, at that point
in the investigation, detectives needed more to make an arrest.
They released Kenny that night, but placed him under twenty
four hour surveillance, knowing in their gut that this was
(12:12):
not a random killing. In the quiet o'cllor night, as lightning,
bugs blinked in the trees and the smell of rain
hung in the air, investigators began piecing together the final
hours of Charlen's life and the violent rage of the
man she had tried so desperately to escape. By the
third day of the investigation, May twenty two, twenty twenty three,
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detectives had already built a grim picture of life inside
the Dobbins household. As they continued interviewing family members, one
name stood out Travis Dobbins, Kennett's twenty one year old
son from a prior marriage. Travis lived in a small
rental trailer on the edge of Ocalla, near an autopart's yard.
He worked nights at a local tire shop off State
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Road two hundred, patching flats and balancing wheels until close
to midnight. Coworkers said he mostly kept to himself, often
showing up late and smelling like smoke and motor oil.
When detectives arrived at the shop that Monday afternoon, Travis
was outside in a grease stained uniform changing a tire
on a whiteness on. He looked startled when investigators showed
(13:14):
their badges. His first words were, is my dad in
trouble again? At the Marion County Sheriff's Office, detectives presented
Travis with a series of text messages found on Charley's phone.
The messages revealed a disturbing relationship, something far beyond normal
family boundaries. Over Christmas. In New Year's Kenneth had allegedly
allowed his son conjugal time with Charlene, a twisted arrangement
(13:37):
he bragged about to friends while drunk. Several witnesses later
confirmed that Kenneth would laugh about it in local bars,
claiming a real man chairs everything under his roof. Travis
sat pale and shaking as the detectives read the text aloud.
His voice cracked when he said, I didn't touch her
since January, I swear. He added that his father made
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it happen, and that he'd been too scared to fight back.
Detectives described him as more frightened of his father than
remorseful about the abuse. During questioning, Travis kept his eyes
on the table. Speaking in short, flat sentences, He said
he had worked his shift at the tire shop the
entire night Charling disappeared. Investigators checked his time card and
(14:18):
security footage, confirming he had clocked in at six four
pm on May nineteen and didn't clock out until eleven
fifty eight pm. Still, the tone of his interview unsettled detectives.
Lieutenant Marcy Fulton later wrote in her report. He wasn't angry,
he wasn't sad. He was cold like drival. Just nothing there.
(14:39):
Travis told them his father had grown real dark in
recent months. Kenneth spent nights drinking natural ice and muttering
about people stealing his thoughts. Travis said his father sometimes
blasted Old Toby Keith's songs in the middle of the
night or fired his pistol into the dirt, just to
remind folks he was bon Detectives pressed him for more
details about the last time he'd seen Charlie. Said that
(15:00):
she was crying in the kitchen sometime in January, wearing
a blue T shirt and fuzzy socks with cartoon reindeer.
She told me she was leaving him, He said, I
told her she should. I told her he's not going
to stop until he killed somebody. When detectives asked if
he believed his father was capable of murder, Travis nodded slowly.
He's capable of anything when he's drinking, he said. After
(15:22):
three hours, Travis was released. His alibi had checked out,
and his phone records showed no contact with Charline after January. Still,
investigators left the interview uneasy. In the sterile light of
the interrogation room, Travis's fear seemed real, but so did
his silence. One detective later described it best. He looked
like a kid who'd been living in hell his whole life.
(15:44):
But he also looked like someone who'd learned never to
tell what really happens. There. By May twenty five, twenty
twenty three, the investigation had taken a shocking turn. The
Marion County Medical Examiner's office was conducting the autopsy of
Charling May Dobbins when a discovery stopped the room cold.
As the examiner examined Charlene's airway, they found a small
silver locket lodge deep in her throat. It had likely
(16:07):
been forced there while she was still alive or during
her final moments. When technicians carefully opened the locket, they
found a tiny, folded ultrasound photo and the words Daddy
Lucas scrawled in blue pen on the back. The photo
was faint from moisture, but the date stamp showed April tenth,
twenty twenty three, just over a month before Charlene's death.
(16:28):
Investigators quickly realized she must have swallowed the locket while
trying to flee, desperate to keep her husband from discovering it.
Inside the ultrasound image, the outline of the baby was clear,
five months along the same stage Charlene had been when
she checked into the Motel six off Silver Springs Boulevard.
To her family, it was the final sign of her
pope and her secret she'd been carrying another man's child.
(16:51):
Detectives traced the name Lucas to Lucas Green, a forty
year old co worker from the feed store on Baseline Road.
Lucas had started working there in late twenty twenty two,
helping load hay and restock grain bags. He was nome
as quiet and dependable, the kind of man who always
offered to carry the heavy fee for customers. Coworkers later
told police they'd seen Charlene and Lucas growing close in
(17:13):
the spring. They would eat lunch together behind the store,
sharing cold cokes and talking in hush tones. In April,
Charlene confided to a friend that she was planning to
leave Kenneth and start over in Valdosta, Georgia, where her
sister lived, and that Lucas had agreed to help her move.
When detectives checked her phone records, they found daily calls
and messages between the two. On May eighteen, the night
(17:36):
before her death, she had texted him got room booked
we'll see you soon. That message was never answered. Lieutenant
Marcy Fulton later said that Lockett told us everything about motive.
Kenneth realized the baby was in his When authorities informed
Kenneth of the discovery while he sat in the Marion
County jail, his reaction was chilling. He reportedly smirked and said,
(17:58):
guess she took her secret to the grave. Did she?
The medical examiner ruled Charleing's cause of death as homicide
by sharp forced trauma, with evidence showing she had been
beaten before being decapitated. Her baby, a five month old
female fetus, was listed among the victims. Charlene's sister, Angela May,
later gave the baby a name Hope. She told reporters
(18:20):
that's what Charling wanted, Hope for a new life. Every
few weeks, Angela still visits the roadside memorial off County
Road four hundred and seventy five, where Charlene's body was found.
The spot is marked with a white cross, sun faded flowers,
and a small framed ultrasound picture identical to the one
in the locket. In the soft hum of passing cars
in the Florida heat rising off the assphol Angela kneels
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by the cross and whispers the same words every time
you made it out, sister, you and hope both. By
late May of twenty twenty three, detectives were still piecing
together the last days of Charlene Dobbin's life, and their
search soon turned toward one of Kenneth's closest drinking buddies,
Gerald Gerry Mots, aged fifty three. Moates, was well known
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around of Kala's east side, often seen hanging around the
Speedway gas station off Silver Springs Boulevard, leaning against his
faded green Ford Ranger with a can of natural ice
in hand. Locals described him as wary and sunburned, with
nicotine stained teeth and a voice that rasped from years
of chainsmoking Marlborough's. When detectives arrived at his small trailer
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home behind an abandoned car wash on Highway forty, they
found him sitting on a lawn chair, shirtless, listening to
Lynyrd Skynderd on a portable radio. At first, he seemed
relaxed until they brought up Charley's name. During questioning, Mots
admitted that back in February, Kenneth Dobbins had allegedly sold
Charling to him for three hundred dollars, calling it part
(19:45):
of a beck gone wrong. Moates described the exchange as
just a dumb joke. After a night of heavy drinking,
he said I could rent her for a weekend, Mots
told detectives, shaking his head, I thought he was kidding.
I thought we were just talking trash. When pressed further,
Mots said he met Charlen once afterward, claiming they only
talked about her getting out and that nothing sexual happened.
(20:08):
She looked scared, he said quietly. I told her she
needed to leave that man. Investigators didn't believe much of
his story. Surveillance's footage from the Motel six parking lot
on May nineteenth, the evening Charling checked in, showed a
truck matching Moats's Ford Rangers circling the lodder on seven
forty five p m. The truck's distinctive dented fender and
(20:28):
rusted tailbate made it easy to identify when detectives confronted
him with the footage, Motes grew defensive. I was just
looking for Kenny, he said. He owed me gas money.
He denied ever entering the motel or seeing Charling that night.
Detectives noted that his story changed several times. At first,
he claimed he hadn't been near Silver Springs Boulevard in months. Later,
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he admitted driving by just to see if Kenny was
still staying there. His explanations for why he was in
the area didn't add up. Inside his trailer, investigators found
an old circular saw, similar to the one used in
the murder, but tests showed it hadn't been used recently.
They also found text messages from Kenneth Dobbins earlier that month,
short erratic messages. They read, she's running, but want to
(21:13):
see her one more time, and another that said simply
bring cash. Motes swore the texts were just bar talk
and that he never responded. Detectives couldn't prove otherwise, but
the timing made them uneasy. Neighbors later told police they
saw Motes's truck leave his trailer around dusk on May
nineteen and return after midnight. When asked what he was
(21:35):
doing during those hours, Motes just shrugged. Drive him around,
he said, thinking about stupid stuff. Lieutenant Marcy Fulton later
called Motes the wild card. In her report, she wrote,
He's the kind of man we'll do something awful and
convince himself it was just a joke. Despite the suspicious
timing and the disturbing bet, detectives couldn't time Motes directly
(21:57):
to the murder. With no DNA, no fingerprints, and only
blurry footage, the case against him stalled. Still to this day.
Many in Okaala believe Motes knew more than he ever said.
In the parking lot of the speedway where he still
hangs around. Some locals whisper that if Charling hadn't crossed
paths with Jerry Motes that spring, she might have made
it safely to Valdosta. By the last week of May
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twenty twenty three, investigators with the Marion County Sheriff's Office
had built a solid case. All the evidence, blood spatter,
saw residue, motel key card, and GPS data pointed squarely
to one man, Kenneth Kenny Dobbins, Charling's forty nine year
old husband. Forensics technicians spent days analyzing every inch of
Kenneth's white Ford F one hundred and fifty. Small droplets
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of blood found in the truck bed matched Charlene's DNA.
The saw residue tiny metal shavings in dry tissue was
consistent with the craftsmen circular saw seas from his backyard shed,
the same saw that had been used to decapitate her.
Detectives also uncovered data from kenneth It cell phone GPS.
It showed that on the night of May nineteenth, just
(23:04):
hours after Charlene checked into the Motel six on Silver
Springs Boulevard, his phone pained near the motel's parking lot. Later,
between one o'clock and three o'clock am, the signal moved
along County Road four hundred and seventy five, the same
stretch of road where Charlene's body was discovered two days later.
The motel key card recovered from Kenneth's truck placed him
(23:25):
at the scene. Even more firmly, his fingerprints were found
on it, along with traces of dried blood along the edge.
Detectives concluded Charlene had tried to flee her motel room,
but Kenneth caught her before she could make it out
of town. When deputies arrived at Kenneth's small yellow house
on southeast ninety second Place Road the afternoon of May
twenty seventh. He was sitting shirtless on the porch, drinking
(23:47):
a can of bush Light and listening to country radio
when the patrol cars pulled up. He leaned back in
his chair, looked at the officers and grinned, I all
going to make me famous, h he said. The deputies,
wearing gloves and bulletproof vests, ordered him to stand and
place his hands behind his back. Kenneth didn't resist. Gussie
all figured it out, he said, still smirking. He was
(24:07):
handcuffed and taken to the Marion County Jail, where he
gave a short and bizarre statement. He repeated the same
excuse he had given during earlier questioning. She locked herself
in the bathroom. I had to take a dumb things
went sideways, he claimed. He grabbed her by the hair
and that she fell on the saw. Investigators noted his
tone was almost bored, as though describing a household argument
(24:30):
rather than a brutal killing, but detectives believed his true
motive was jealousy and control. In Charlene's phone, they found
text messages between her and Lucas Green, a co worker
from the feed store. The messages showed plans for Charling
to leave town that weekend. One text from Lucas read
gas tanks full. We leave after your shift Daldosta by midnight.
(24:52):
DNA tests later confirmed the truth Kenneth had suspected but
refused to admit. The baby Charling carried was Lucas's eye his.
When confronted with this fact, Kenneth reportedly laughed and said figures.
She never could keep her mouth shut. Charlene's sister, Melissa May,
broke down in tears when detectives informed her of the arrest.
He killed her because she wanted peace, she said, quietly,
(25:15):
because she finally had hope. In late May, as news
spread through O'calla, a small memorial grew near the drainage
ditch on County Road four hundred and seventy five plastic flowers,
baby socks, and a wooden cross that read Charlene and
Baby Hope, Loved and Free. The murder trial of Kenneth
Kenny Dobbins began on January eighth, twenty twenty five, inside
(25:39):
the Marion County Courthouse in downtown o'calla. Outside, the winter
air was cool and still. Local news vans lined the street,
their antennas raised high as reporters waited for a glimpse
of the man accused of one of Ocala's most brutal
crimes in years. Inside the courthouse, the gallery was filled
with quiet tension. Charlene's family, including her older sister Melissa May,
(26:01):
sat together in the front row holding a framed copy
of Charlene's ultrasound picture. A small image of the baby,
nicknamed Hope by the family, rested on the wooden bench
between them, like a silent witness. The prosecutor, Assistant State
Attorney Dana Klein, aged forty five, led the case for
the State of Florida. A calm but firm presence, Climb
(26:22):
was known for her sharp preparation and her unflinching delivery.
In her opening statement, she told jurors this was not
an accident. This was a man whose pride mattered more
than a human life. She walked the jury through the
timeline of May twenty twenty three, Charlene's escape from home,
her brief stay at the Motel six, and her brutal
death days later. Klein presented forensic photos, DNA test results,
(26:47):
and the craftsman's circular saw blade marked with Charlene's blood.
Jurors were shown side by side photos of Kenneth's shed
and the matching tool found there. It also saw text
messages between Charlene and Lucas Green, the feed store co
worker and father of her unborn child. When Charlene's sister,
Melissa took the stand, she spoke softly but clearly. She
(27:08):
described the years of abuse, the phone calls Charling made
about starting over, and the day she received the devastating
news she was finally ready to leave him. Melissa said,
clutching a tissue, she just wanted her baby to grow
up safe. The defense attorney, Mark Gibbons, aged fifty two,
hainted a different picture. Gibbons told the jury that Kenneth
(27:29):
had snapped in a moment of uncontrollable rage and never
meant to kill. He described his client as a broken man,
humiliated and overwhelmed. Hiveins argued that the murder lacked premeditation,
calling it a crime of passion fueled by jealousy. Kenneth
Dobbins sat motionless during most of the trial of his
arms crossed his face blank. When photos of Charlene's injuries
(27:52):
were shown, he looked away but never cried. In the gallery,
Melissa covered her mouth and wept quietly. After five days
of testimony and only three hours of deliberation, the jury
returned with a verdict of guilty of first degree murder.
The courtroom fell silent as the clerk read the decision aloud.
Melissa reached for her mother's hand and whispered, we got
(28:14):
her justice. At sentencing, the judge called Dobbins's crime a
barbaric act born of control, jealousy, and hate. He sentenced
him to life in prison without the possibility of parole.
Outside the courthouse, the sky turned orange as the sun
set over downtown O'calla. Melissa told reporters there's no real
peace after something like this, but at least he can't
(28:36):
hurt anyone else. Inside her car, on the passenger seat
rested the same ultrasound photo Charline had carried with her
to the motel, the one that proved she had been
running not just for herself, but for the baby she
never got to hold. After his sentencing in January twenty
twenty five, Kenneth Dobbins was transferred to Florida State Prison
in Rayford, a maximum security facility in northeast Florida. Prison
(29:01):
officials reported that he showed no remorse for his actions.
According to interviews with fellow inmates, he often spoke about
Charline in a cold, calculating way, saying he was teaching
her a lesson. He refused to participate in counseling or
rehabilitation programs, and guards noted his interactions were marked by
tension and intimidation. Kenneth's son, Travis Dobbins, twenty one, left
(29:23):
o'cala shortly after the trial concluded. He moved to Gainesville,
cutting nearly all ties with his father and attempting to
build a life free from the shadow of the Dobbins household.
At his new job in an auto repair shop, he
kept a low profile and avoided talking about his family,
focusing instead on routine and stability. Friend said he seemed
quieter and more withdrawn, carrying the weight of the past
(29:45):
with him. Gerald Jerry Motes, the fifty three year old
friend of Kenneth, also disappeared from the public eye. He
sold his boat, packed up his belongings, and left Marion
County Entirely local residents reported seeing him in neighboring counties,
but again in Okawa. Authorities noted that while he had
never been charged in Charlene's murder, the case had left
(30:06):
a permit mark on his reputation in town. For the police,
the case had long term impacts as well. Lieutenant Marcy Fulton,
who had led the investigation, was promoted to captain in
early twenty twenty five. She continued to oversee violent crime investigations,
but made time each year to visit the roadside memorial
along County Road four hundred and seventy five, where Charlene's
(30:28):
body was found. She often left a small bouquet of
flowers or a single candle, reflecting on the lives lost
and the importance of vigilance in cases of domestic abuse.
Charlene's sister, Melissa May, took on the responsibility of caring
for the child Charlene had been carrying. She named the
baby Hope, honoring her sister's wish for a future free
from fear and violence. Melissa placed a small wooden cross
(30:51):
beside the memorial, keeping a constant vigil for both Charlene
and Hope. Each spring, she continued one of Charlene's favorite traditions.
She baked banana bread and left it at the memorial,
a quiet gesture that connected the past with the present
and reminded the community of Charling's kindness and warmth. Though
Okalla had returned to its normal rhythm of quiet streets
(31:12):
and horse farms, the memory of Charling May Dobbins lingered.
The case remained a stark reminder of the dangers of
domestic violence and the resilience of family members determined to
honor the life and dreams of someone taken too soon.
Charleing Dobbins wanted to start a new life, a peaceful
one away from years of fear. Instead, her story became
another reminder of how deadly domestic violence can be. If
(31:36):
you are someone you know is experiencing abuse, call the
National Domestic Violence Hotline at one eight hundred seventy nine
nine Save
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