It all began on a Friday evening in 2019. At 6 PM, I received a text message I’ll never forget:
“I’m in the passenger seat of my car. My boyfriend is threatening to kill me by wrecking the car. If I live through this, I’m going to hire you to help me get him out of my life—if you can.”
That message came from a woman named Sam. It would mark the start of a long, emotional surveillance case, and a powerful journey toward healing.
When I first met with Sam, she apologized to me at least 12 times in the first 20 minutes. I told her gently, “I can tell you’re being abused—because you’re apologizing for things that don’t require an apology.”
📹 The Surveillance Begins
During the first week, we observed “HIM” (as I’ll refer to the abuser) meeting a woman at a park—someone we suspected he was cheating with. Sam, always honest to a fault, told him she knew. They had a terrible fight, and he stayed in the house.
In week two, we created a phony Tinder profile—and within three hours, he contacted the profile, eager to meet. Five female investigators were assigned to the operation.
That evening, Sam crossed paths with HIM about 30 minutes before our decoy meeting. She had already packed up his belongings in her car. When they spoke on the roadside, Sam broke down in tears. She told him she knew he was cheating and asked him to leave. On audio, you can hear him begging:
“Please, baby. You know I love you. Just give me an hour. I’m having pizza with the boys.”
Sam sobbed as she drove away.
🎥 The Confrontation
HIM showed up late to the Tinder decoy meeting, parking beside our undercover investigator. She wore a hidden camera and microphone. It was dark, so we strained to see her signal. After three minutes, we decided to move in.
Sam rolled up behind HIM’s vehicle and swung open the door:
“I thought you told me you loved me 30 minutes ago?! You have to get out of my house. Here’s your stuff!”
He exploded. On video, he repeated:
“She’s not my girlfriend—she’s my sugar mama!”
Three times he yelled it, trying to reclaim control as our investigator exited his vehicle. Sam drove off. Our team followed, while two investigators stayed behind to watch HIM.
A few minutes later, he exited his vehicle, looked at his belongings on the ground, and grinned. Then he called Sam:
“I’m coming home. The door better be unlocked.”
Sam replied, “Do not come to my house or I will call the police.”
He screamed, “Call the police, bitch, and I’ll burn your house down while you’re asleep. Your kids won’t make it through the night.”
Despite our advice, Sam let him come home.
He sent our decoy a message:
“I can’t believe you were in on this.”
He knew we had set him up.
That night, he went to Sam’s house and played World of Warcraft until dawn.
🚗 Small Lies & Bigger Warnings
Around that time, he landed a job—the first in 10 years—after completing welding school. We continued surveillance. He told Sam he was eating lunch at McDonald’s. But we saw him eating across the street in a Walgreens parking lot. A small lie—but a telling one.
He often blasted music so loud that it blew out his rear windshield. He bragged about needing a larger alternator just to keep his stereo system powered.
And then came the chilling words:
“One day, I’m going to get an automatic weapon and shoot up a church before I leave this earth.”
🏠 Sam’s New Chapter
Sam bought a new home in a beautiful neighborhood and begged us to help keep HIM out. While I couldn’t legally stop him from returning, I went door to door and told her new neighbors what was going on.
I shared:
- His name
- His car description
- His history
Then I started praying. Very specific prayers—for Sam’s protection and for this neighborhood to become her sanctuary.
On July 3, 2021, he moved out of her house for good.
On July 4, Sam hosted a fireworks show. Her neighbors came out to celebrate—not just the holiday, but her freedom.
⚖️ A Day in Court
A year later, Sam got her day in court. He was sentenced to:
- One year of anger management
- Drug counseling
- Probation
As soon as the hearing ended, Sam ran to her car. He followed and screamed:
“I didn’t go to jail! You didn’t get what you wanted!”
Sam screamed back, “Leave me alone. Stay away from me!”
That was their final encounter.
💬 A Quiet Thank You
On December 17, 2022, I attended a party at Sam’s house. Before I left, I quietly introduced myself to her daughter, now 18.
She looked at me—tears threatening to fall—and said:
“I don’t even know what to say to you.”
“Thank you for getting HIM out of here.”
We stood there in silence. Just for a moment. But it said everything.
💙 Why This Case Mattered
I’ve faced angry men. But it’s nothing compared to what survivors live with every day. It’s one of the hardest things—to watch someone you care about be abused and feel helpless to stop it.
But from the moment Sam sent that first text, I knew she had me—because I’ve been in that passenger seat.
Please, don’t judge someone for staying in an abusive relationship. It’s never simple. Every case is different. It’s messy. It’s dangerous. But sometimes—with help, prayer, community, and courage—freedom comes.
It took Sam six months to decompress, but now we talk almost every day.
On June 29, 2023, Sam called me just to say:
“It’s been three years since he left my life. I’ve never been happier. I finally know that I’m attractive, capable, and worthy.”
And she is.
— Renee Brewer, StillWatch Investigations
