Welcome to Unspeakable, a true crime podcast where I tell stories of real crimes with real victims,

whose cases are so shocking that many are left wondering, how is this even real?

I use my experiences in law enforcement, corrections, and combined with my years as a criminal justice educator, dig deep into complex cases of evil acts.

Some so evil, many feel they are unspeakable.

Warning, unspeakable is intended for mature audiences.

If you are easily offended, then I'm not your girl. Listing discretion is advised.

Hey y'all, Kelly Jennings here. Look, it is cold in South Louisiana. There might even be snow on the ground, which we're not used to. And I just felt inspired and wanted to give you all a little drop right here on Christmas Eve, a little something, something for you. Because if you're like me, you've been sweating it out in the stores, doing whole bunch of shopping getting all them kids what they need you've been blowing up santa claus saying please

bring these bad kids some gifts lord help them be good people not running prison gangs and we've done

everything that we can do and now it's time for us to cool off relax pray to pray to God, that elf move for the last damn time.

But I thought that I would just bring y'all what you deserve, a little adult, crime night before Christmas.

Twas the night before Christmas went all through the house.

Not a corpse was breathing, not even their spouse.

Nylon stockings were hung by the chimney with care

and hopes that the police would not find them there. The live victims were nestled all snug in their

restraints while visions of mayhem snuffed out their complaints. My old man in his bandana and I in

my cap had just settled in for a quick nightly nap. When out of the lawn there arose such

a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew with a dash,

tore open the curtains, and hid the drugstash. The moon at the breast of the new fallen snow

gave a luster of midday to a person below, when what to my wondering eyes

that appear but a swirling lit cop car and ate plastic reindeer. With a frumpy old driver to slow

and not quick, I knew in a moment he'd never catch Nick. He slogged through the snow toward our

doorway he came, and he whistled and shouted and called us odd names.

...