When Wayne and Sharmon Stock are found shot to death in their farmhouse, the investigation starts close to home. This episode originally published on February 17, 2025.
Chapter 1: Who was Wayne and Sharmon Stock and what was their family background?
It was late, past midnight. The moon was nearly full, and its pale ghost light spread across the great, dark Nebraska plains. Not quite enough to see much of anything. The moon had no competition, not out here, so far from the polluting light of a city or town of any size. A few farm buildings, caught in the muted glow, threw black moon shadows, and all around was silence. Almost.
It was a pickup truck by the sound of it, tires crunching over gravel, headlights poking at the night along the country road, as if the driver was looking for something. And there it was, rising out of the dark. A farmhouse. The pickup slowed down, turned in. The driver looked at his companion. This was the place.
They gathered up their tools, got out, gently, gently shut the truck's doors, and walked across the yard. It was a big two-story place, old, established. Even in the moonlight, it showed off a little, like people cared about this house, about appearances. Was anyone home? Maybe, maybe not. No sign of life, no movement inside, no dog barked. One of them made a decision.
They would not enter through the front door as family would, but in quick order, they found a window, unlocked. So, here it was, the way inside. No turning back now. This is a story about fear.
I was sitting up in bed and I said, Andy, should I be shaking? And he said, that's normal. It's shock.
The fight, flight, or freeze kind of fear that grabs you by the throat. So there was a real, genuine itch in your back that somebody was going to come after you.
Come after me, come after my family.
And it's a story about certainty. And I'm going to do my level best to hang your ass on the highest tree. Certainty, right or wrong.
I know what happened and no one will believe me.
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Chapter 2: What was the significance of Easter Sunday 2006 on the Stock farm?
They found their Easter eggs. They found their Easter baskets. Mom always made every individual Easter basket special to that child.
Mom was Charmin Stock. Her husband, Wayne, was Dad. They were the fifth generation of Starks to work this land, the lifeblood from which their blessings sprang. The land, their land, was as holy to them as any religious relic or sacred chalice could ever be.
Charmin was 55, Wayne 58, and they were generous and steady and always there for their children, the kind of people for whom the phrase salt of the earth seemed perfect.
Don't think they ever missed a game of any of ours. Dad would always stop farming just to be at a game, similar with Mom.
The Starks also had two sons. Steve, the tall and quiet one, was 38 back then, and Andy, the youngest, sturdy, baby-faced, was 27. This is Andy.
They were loving parents. I remember both of them. Just always saying, live life to the fullest. Just live life.
And they did, every day. Wayne Stock, dad, had a degree in building construction. He was a former member of the National Guard. He and Charman ran the Stock Hay and Grain Company, and a very successful business it was. The Stocks owned a thousand acres of land, along with rental property. Family was everything to Charman's talk. Everything.
She stayed home when the kids were little, but when the youngest went to kindergarten, she took a job as a teacher's aide at their country school. Did it for 17 years, until it was time to take care of her own elderly mother. They're busy people.
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Chapter 3: What were the relationships and personalities of the Stock family members?
Very. They touch the lives of so many people.
They were good examples to all of how to live moral, godly lives with high standards.
One thing I always heard from mom was take responsibility for your actions, be responsible.
She would praise you and just keep pushing you to do better. She always wanted us to be better people.
And that included keeping the house meticulously clean for company, as she did on that Easter Sunday, her last day on this earth, when they went to church and then put on a big family dinner And the highlight of it all, the Easter egg hunt for the grandkids. This is their son, Steve.
At least we got that one day. My kids remember it. They talk about it all the time.
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Chapter 4: What happened the night Andy Stock returned to his parents' farmhouse?
I suppose as the last days go, that wouldn't be a bad one.
No, it wasn't.
Except, well, except their youngest wasn't there. Not that Andy didn't love the farm and its rituals much as any of them. In fact, they all figured he'd be the one to take over the place one day. But that Easter Sunday, he'd agreed to spend the day with his future in-laws, and so he missed the party. But he left his young puppy with his parents for the day. He said he'd pick up the dog that night.
Called Mom and Dad, I want to say about 9, 9 o'clock that night. I'm already home, and... So I'm going to come get the dog and get him out of your hair for a little while.
It was past dark when Andy pulled up to the old farmhouse to pick up his dog.
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Chapter 5: How did Andy Stock discover the tragedy at his family home?
So I came in about, I want to say 9.30, 10 o'clock, if I recall, that night. And they met me on the deck on the back of the house. And we talked about Easter and what they did and played with the dog a little bit and stuff. Dad and I were going to start planting corn the next day. And so we talked about the farm a little bit, and they each gave me a hug, and I went home.
As you remember that moment, it makes you feel pretty emotional, doesn't it? Yeah.
Chapter 6: What were Andy Stock's initial reactions to finding blood and his father?
Chapter 7: How does Keith Morrison set the scene for the murder investigation in Murdoch, Nebraska?
It was late, past midnight. The moon was nearly full, and its pale ghost light spread across the great, dark Nebraska plains. Not quite enough to see much of anything. The moon had no competition, not out here, so far from the polluting light of a city or town of any size. A few farm buildings, caught in the muted glow, threw black moon shadows, and all around was silence. Almost.
It was a pickup truck by the sound of it, tires crunching over gravel, headlights poking at the night along the country road, as if the driver was looking for something. And there it was, rising out of the dark. A farmhouse. The pickup slowed down, turned in. The driver looked at his companion. This was the place.
They gathered up their tools, got out, gently, gently shut the truck's doors, and walked across the yard. It was a big two-story place, old, established. Even in the moonlight, it showed off a little, like people cared about this house, about appearances. Was anyone home? Maybe, maybe not. No sign of life, no movement inside, no dog barked. One of them made a decision.
They would not enter through the front door as family would, but in quick order, they found a window, unlocked. So, here it was, the way inside. No turning back now. This is a story about fear.
I was sitting up in bed and I said, Andy, should I be shaking? And he said, that's normal. It's shock.
The fight, flight, or freeze kind of fear that grabs you by the throat. So there was a real, genuine itch in your back that somebody was going to come after you.
Come after me, come after my family.
And it's a story about certainty. And I'm going to do my level best to hang your ass on the highest tree. Certainty, right or wrong.
I know what happened and no one will believe me.
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