Candy Montgomery
22 min read
It has been more than 40 years since Candy Montgomery killed her friend with an ax in a suburban neighborhood of Wylie, TX. But now, Candy is the subject of two upcoming series set to release from HBO and HULU this year. I was surprised that I had never heard of this case before, and I can see now why two major TV platforms are jumping on the ball to retell the story to a new audience of true-crime-crazed fanatics. It sticks with you.
Introduction
Three men walked together up the Gore's driveway on June 13, 1980. It was the first Friday the 13th since the original movie had been released a few weeks prior, adding additional eeriness to the already dramatized evening. Their neighbor, Allan Gore, had called in a panic when he had unsuccessfully been able to connect with his wife. Allan was in Minnesota on a business trip and asked the men to check on his wife for him, telling them they had his permission to break into the house if necessary. His wife, Betty, was a chronic worrier when Allan was away, and she should have been expecting his call. He knew something was very wrong.
The lights were on inside the home, and the garage door was open. When no one answered their knocks at the door, they tried every window and side door to the Gore home. Finally, as they discussed how to pry open a large window leading to the dining room, Richard Parker went to the front door, twisted the knob, and swung it open. A chill ran down his spine. The men slowly entered the threshold and started towards the three bedrooms to the left. Lester Gayler stopped at the first door, opened it, and flipped on the light: it was a child's bedroom, nothing unusual. They continued down the hall to the next room. As soon as Lester opened the door, the hoarse cry of an abandoned child filled the air. "Oh my God, the baby," he said.
Richard moved into the doorway and saw a baby girl in her crib. Her face was red and blotchy, her hair tangled and dirty, and her skin was stained from her excrement. She had been there for a long time. Richard grabbed the baby and ran her to his wife, instructing her to call the police immediately. While he was gone, Lester Gayle and Jerry McMahan continued to search the rest of the house. Lester made his way through the kitchen and reached the door to the utility room, between the kitchen and garage. "Oh my God, don't go any further!" Lester shut the door without even entering the utility room.
Officer Johnney Bridgefarmer was the first man on the scene. Richard Parker met him at the door and told him where the body was. Bridgefarmer marched to the utility room, opened the door, took one look, and closed it. When Chief Royce Abbot arrived, Bridgefarmer led him straight to the room. As the chief was looking at the body, one of the officers called him over to take a look at something. A copy of the Dallas Morning News was spread out on the table, opened to the entertainment section, and folded as if to emphasize a single article. It was a movie review of The Shining. "Looks like one of them cult deals," said Abbott.
Betty Gore's left arm was the first thing they noticed behind the utility room door. It lay in a pool of blood and fluid so thick that her arm appeared to be floating. To look at Betty's face, they had to walk around the deep pools of congealed, black blood to get closer. Her lips were parted, showing her front teeth, and her mouth twisted into a half-grin. Her hair was fanned out, tangled, and soaked from the blood. Betty's left eye was wide open, staring down at the gaping black holes in her arms. As for her right eye - she appeared not to have one. The entire right half of her face was gone. A heavy, wooden-handled, three-foot-long ax was half-hidden under the freezer a few feet from Betty's head.
Credit: Dallas Morning News
Betty and Allan
Betty was born in 1950 in Norwich, Kansas, a small town with 414 residents. She was the first child and the only girl, four years older than brother Ronnie and eight years older than Richard. Betty was wildly popular growing up, the kind of girl who was always elected vice-president and played in the band and on the basketball team. In later years her friends recalled Betty as the girl who always had a boyfriend - or three - but never really seemed to be in love.
She was wholesome, uncomplaining, friendly, and intelligent. The girl every mother wanted her son to marry, and for the most part, Betty could have had her pick of the lot. Moreover, she had a single-minded determination to become a school teacher and had spoken of it as long as she had talked about college. However, the one thing Betty did not succeed at was math. So, of course, she fell in love with her college math teacher.
Allan Gore was a small, plain man with glasses and puffy cheeks. At the age of twenty-one, he already had signs of a receding hairline. He was a senior at Southwestern College in Winfield, Kansas, and a teaching assistant in freshman math when he met Betty. A few of Betty's friends were surprised when she brought him home, and her father thought Allan was a sissy. For Betty, their relationship was just a continuation of high school; she had always dated older boys and sometimes for long periods. She adored Allan's intelligence and felt security when she was with him. But for Allan, the experience was entirely new. They married on January 25, 1970.
Betty didn't like uncertainty. She enjoyed the security of knowing where Allan was at all times, having meals at the same time every day, and the regularity of a weekly paycheck. When she was assigned a paper in class, she would have it completed weeks before it was due. Betty's punctuality soon caused problems in their marriage, and her world fell apart when Allan left for a six-week business trip. When he would call, she would cry and beg him to come home as soon as possible. She claimed that such long separations weren't proper in a marriage. Then, in retrospect, she did something entirely out of her nature. While Allan was still out of town, she went home with another man. Two days after Allan returned, Betty confessed that she had cheated on him and had just been scared and confused, and it didn't mean anything. She begged for forgiveness. Allan was hurt, but he got over it quickly. In later years, he sometimes wondered whether the incident hadn't been so much an act of desperation as a calculated attempt to control his behavior.
In November 1973, Betty became pregnant with their first child, and the couple moved to Plano after Allan accepted a job at Collins Radio in Richardson. Unfortunately, Betty quickly developed an extreme case of morning sickness, began having fainting spells, and soon spiraled into a full-blown depression. In the meantime, they shopped for a church because they felt they should reestablish some ties for the children's sake. They settled on Briarwood Methodist and quickly became friends with other members there. By this time, Allan and Betty seemed to have reversed their roles five years before: he was the socialite, and she was the loner.
If you research this case, you'll quickly find records of the Gore children's names, but I don't see it necessary to include the kids' names in any of this. Betty and Allan gave birth to a girl, and it restored Betty's spirits for a while. She started a new job at Davis Elementary as the second-grade teacher in the 1974-75 school year. But unfortunately, Betty's happiness soon faded. She found her class of children to be extremely difficult to manage. Betty's colleagues thought she was too stern; when her students misbehaved, she would keep them from recess and send notes home to their mothers.
Allan was only adding to Betty's continued stress by traveling for work again and increasing his involvement in the church, and she fell into her most profound depression. Once, when Allan left for a lengthy business trip in Switzerland, Betty called his boss and begged him to let Allan return home. Finally, in February 1977, he put the Plano house up for sale and transferred to a position that would allow him to work exclusively in Dallas. They moved into a house on Dogwood Street in Wylie, and the couple settled into their new church, Lucas Methodist. The Gore's felt as if they were starting over.
Betty
Credit: Dallas Morning News
Investigation
Word of a killer who had hacked a woman to death in her own home spread through Wylie. The residents of Dogwood and surrounding streets double-locked their doors and closed their windows. It was not only a gruesome murder; it was the first murder in Wylie in living history. Police patrolled the surrounding streets of the Gore family residence and began questioning the men who had reported the crime. Richard Parker quickly gave them two crucial leads. First, the dead woman's husband was out of town, but no one had known until he called. Secondly, the garage door was wide open all night, when ordinarily it was closed. This garage had a door leading directly into the utility room.
Chief Royce Abbott called for the Collin County Sheriff's office to bring a camera and fingerprinting equipment while completing his search of the crime scene. When he walked into the bathroom, he came across considerably the most haunting evidence yet. There were bloodstains on the bathmat, the soap dish, the wall tiles, and the tub. Suggesting the killer had enough composure to take a shower before leaving.
The Gore's home phone rang, and Abbott picked up. It was Allan Gore, calling to get an update on his wife. Allan informed the chief he had left for St. Paul on business at about 4:30 p.m. and had been trying to call Betty all evening. When asked the last time he saw his wife, he responded it was about 8:00 a.m. when he left for work. Abbott proceeded to ask if Allan was aware of anyone else who might have been around the house that day. He said their friend Candy Montgomery was watching their oldest daughter and had come by to pick up a swimsuit for her. Chief Abbott got off the phone with him and immediately called his dispatcher and asked her to begin looking into every movement Allan had made that day.
Steven Deffibaugh received the call from the Collin County dispatcher to bring his camera gear and equipment. As soon as he walked into the home on Dogwood Street, Deffibaugh could see that this was a messy, complex case that ranged through several rooms in the house. There were at least a dozen cops and ambulance attendants in the home, and in addition, three neighbors had been the ones to discover the body. As a result, anything could have been touched, moved, and contaminated at the crime scene. Deffibaugh knew he needed some aid and asked Chief Abbott to call Dr. Irving Stone.
Dr. Stone did not work for any police agency and was usually employed as an advisor to police officers. However, in this case, when he arrived at the Gore home, Stone was told he would be processing the scene. Dr. Stone was a methodical worker and knew it might be necessary to collect a thousand bits of evidence to solve a murder. Accordingly, he moved slowly through the house and found the activities of the offense confined to the utility room, front bathroom, front entry hall, and the front porch. Stone decided to begin where he thought the crime ended - the bathroom.
Dr. Stone cut out bloodstained strands from a green rug beside the bathtub and scraped dried blood off the title. He also removed a large clump of hair from the drain. Then he moved on to the utility room, where Deffibaugh had pointed out one of the most promising pieces of evidence. On the freezer was a clean red thumbprint from a left hand. Unfortunately, lifting a print without chemicals is almost impossible once blood dries. Stone did not have the necessary equipment and instructed Deffibaugh to photograph the fingerprint. Next, Stone slipped plastic bags over Betty Gore's hands, hoping that either he or the coroner could find skin or hair samples belonging to the perpetrator. The men worked until dawn, removing any tiles that appeared to have partial or whole footprints and going through the carpet, scraping up blood samples.
At 8 o'clock, five and a half hours since he had begun collecting evidence, Stone took a complete inventory of what he found. He hadn't said much to Deffibaugh or Abbott, but he made two observations before leaving. "It was not premeditated. The weapon is too strange; there are signs of a terrible struggle everywhere. It was a crime of circumstance. Second, those footprints in the utility room don't belong to a man; they're too small. I think a woman did this. A woman or a kid."
Dr. Vincent DiMaio, the senior medical examiner in Dallas County, performed the autopsy on Betty Gore. He could tell almost immediately that there appeared to be minor postmortem disfigurement. She had been alive for most of the attack. He collected strands of hair from her hands and the soles of her feet and had clipped her fingernails in hopes she had scratched off the skin of her killer. Because of the extreme nature of the crime and the complete mutilation of Betty's face, DiMaio assumed it was a sexual crime. He ordered the technicians to take anal, oral, and vaginal swabs to look for semen. All the samples turned up negative, though, and Dr. DiMaio knew they were dealing with something strange.
He began the formal autopsy by starting with Betty's arms. DiMaio found five cuts on the right arm, none deep, as though the woman had been defending herself. He found another five wounds on the left arm, much more serious ones - two running horizontally as though the ax had been swung side to side. He proceeded up the body, describing the abrasions and chop wounds on Betty's hands and shoulders. Dr. DiMaio then found something he thought was baffling; three injuries were on the thighs. Those cuts were much lower than all the others, as though struck after she was already down. It didn't make sense, as most of the rage from the attack was directed at the head and face.
DiMaio moved on to the head; half of Betty Gore's face was nothing but a mass of tissue and blood. The bones were so fractured that the eyeball had sunk back into the sinus cavity. The damage was caused by six vertical blows, parallel and deep. They were of such consistency that it was apparent they had been inflicted while Betty was already dead, and her head had ceased to move. On the left side of the face, he found three horizontal wounds of various sizes. On the right side, near the top, DiMaio found a couple of odd-shaped curved injuries, suggesting they were glancing blows struck during a struggle.
Near the curved injuries was a massive gaping wound that ran across the top of the head, from ear to ear. After clearing away the hair and blood, Dr. DiMaio could see that it had been caused by at least seven blows from the ax. The cuts were so deep and struck with so much force that they penetrated the skull, and a good portion of Betty's brains seeped out onto the floor. Turning the body over, he found a group of three more chop wounds across the back of the head. Two injuries were pointed at the top but squared off at the bottom. DiMaio could think of only one explanation; the ax had been swung with such force that it stuck inside the head. That meant the killer would have had to wiggle it back and forth to remove it from the bone before swinging again.
Five hours after beginning the autopsy, Dr. DiMaio faced a problem. The cause of death was obvious, massive head injuries from any one of the groups of blows, but the pattern of the wounds didn't fit any of the standard motives. In his opinion, DiMaio still guessed it was a sex crime, mainly because of the weapon. An ax is clumsy, heavy, and not as effective as other weapons. Moreover, her face was mutilated for no apparent reason and chopped much more than necessary to kill her. In total, there were 41 ax wounds on Betty's body.
When Dr. Stone had finished his review of the evidence and suggested that the killer was an acquaintance of Betty, Chief Abbot had considered Allan Gore the prime suspect. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that he left town on the same day his wife was murdered. Allan's alibi checked out, though. He did have business in St. Paul, his flights were confirmed, and there were coworkers with him at all times that day. Abbott called him in for a formal interview at the station anyway.
The interview began with Allan being asked to review everything he did on the morning of Betty's death. He described his day in great detail and explained that Betty had been experiencing some depression and wasn't happy about him leaving for the weekend. He reviewed every conversation he had that day with Candy Montgomery, who was watching their oldest daughter and all of the movements he made up until arriving at the DFW Airport.
The questioning went on for several hours, and then lastly, Allan was asked if he knew of any time when Betty might have had an affair. Hesitantly, Allan told the investigators about the time in 1971 when they were living in New Mexico, and Betty had a one-night stand, but he didn't believe she had ever been with another man since then. When asked whether he had ever had an affair, Allan responded, "No."
At 6 a.m. the following day, Royce Abbott's phone rang. "Chief Abbott, this is Allan Gore. I'm calling to tell you that there's one thing I wasn't truthful about last night." "What's that, Allan?" "I did have an affair. With Candy Montgomery."
Candy
Candy was described as social and rebellious at a young age. She knew what she wanted and did whatever it took to get it. Candy did not have a trace of shyness, and in kindergarten, she already had an eye for the boys. Once when a nine-year-old named Johnny was spending the night, she challenged him to a race to see who would fill up a glass jar from the water pump. Johnny won, and when Candy finally caught up to him, she smashed the jar in rage. A piece of glass hit the top of Candy's nose, right between her eyes. Blood poured everywhere, and when she arrived at the hospital, the nurses had to hold her down while kicking and screaming. Her mother was angry with her, placed her forefinger to her lips, and said, "What will the people in the waiting room think?" Candy continued to scream until the stitches were in and would bear the scar for the rest of her life.
Candy remained an independent spirit as she grew up, and although she held a job, she dreamed of being a full-time mother and wife. She dated, but none of them were what she wanted. The man she intended to marry would be successful and wealthy. Pat Mongomery met Candy one summer in El Paso after being set up on a date. Candy didn't find him handsome, and their conversation was filled with long awkward silences, but Pat was destined to be wealthy someday, so Candy gave it a chance. Two months later, the couple was engaged, and they had a small wedding before packing a U-Haul and heading to Dallas. By 1979, Pat earned a high income at Texas Instruments, and they purchased their dream home. Candy held a high position at Lucas Methodist Church, where they attended, and the couple had two children. Candy Montgomery appeared to have a perfect life, but secretly, she wanted more.
She decided an affair was what she needed. It would breathe fresh life into her stale marriage and help her feel sexy again. Then, one week during a volleyball game hosted by the church, Candy collided with Allan Gore. It was a harmless bump, but it suddenly revealed that Allan smelled sexy to Candy. She had known Allan for nine months prior; he sang in the Lucas Methodist choir, their daughters were friends, and Candy had even considered his wife, Betty, a friend. She started to think about him at the oddest hours of the day, and after a few weeks of flirting, Candy finally decided to approach Allan in the church parking lot.
She got straight to the point and asked him if he would be interested in having an affair with her. Candy was firm that there would be no emotions involved, and she had no intention of divorcing Pat. Allan was stunned at first but flattered; he told Candy that Betty had just become pregnant with their second child, and he loved her too much to hurt her. However, within a week or two, he called Candy, and the pair discussed the logistics and ground rules of their sexual arrangement.
Candy and Allan began their affair at the Continental Inn on December 12, 1978. He was an inexperienced lover who did not even know what a French kiss was, but Candy thought he seemed promising. They continued their affair for months, meeting at the cheaper Como Motel in Richardson every other week. Candy was passionate about their time together, though the sex did not improve much. Each day they planned to meet, she would prepare a meticulous lunch and press her lingerie. Unfortunately, as these things often go, Candy began to develop feelings for Allan. They had agreed initially that the affair would go no further than sex, and Allan began to feel uncomfortable. He broke things off with Candy and told her that he and Betty were attending a church event called "Marriage Encounter" in hopes of reconciling their relationship. Candy cried a little; she loved Allan's casual phone calls and the friendship they had established, but she didn't protest too much.
Credit: Jason Janik, Dallas Morning News
In the Spring of 1980, Candy went on a women's only lake retreat with other members from Lucas Methodist, and Pat Montgomery was left to watch the kids. While she was gone, he looked in her dresser drawer and found an envelope underneath her panties. It was apparent what it was as Pat began to open the letter. It was a love letter, but not from him. He sat down on the bed and read the letter all the way through. "Sexual experiences." "Affair." "Love, Allan." Pat knew Allan well from church; he even liked Allan. Pat spent the rest of the weekend going back and forth about whether this was his fault. Had he been the one to drive Candy into Allan's arms? In the end, he forgave her, and the couple planned a vacation to South Padre. At the same time, Allan and Betty Gore were planning a trip too; they wanted to return to Europe that summer. It seemed like life was starting to make sense in their marriages again.
Arrest
The mystery of who killed Betty Gore was finally beginning to open up. After the officers had their interview with Allan, their investigation shifted entirely. Was it Allan Gore or Betty Montgomery or both? Police assumed they already had their killer. But unfortunately, they only had one witness to that morning on June 13. A five-year-old girl had seen a woman in blue jeans come out of the Gore house and drive away in a station wagon around 11 a.m. There was no hard evidence, though. They believed most of what Allan had told them, but they still felt he was hiding something. The only hope they had was the single bloody thumbprint they photographed and the strands of hair they found in the bathtub drain. Finally, Candy Montgomery was brought in for questioning on June 17.
Candy explained to investigators that the Gores' oldest child had spent the night at the Montgomery's the previous night because their daughters were close friends. Then that morning, the kids begged Candy to let her stay over another night so they could watch the new Star Wars movie that evening. She patiently repeated everything she did on June 13, beginning with taking the kids to Vacation Bible School. Candy expressed that if the Gores' daughter were to stay another night, she would have to go by Betty's house to pick up a swimsuit and take her swimming lessons that afternoon, so she decided she would swing by the house rather than call. Candy said she arrived at the Gore residence around 10 a.m., and they chatted for a while about the children. After a time, the two women went outside to play with the Gores' dogs, and at one point, Candy excused herself and went to the bathroom to pick out her new perm. Before leaving, Betty grabbed her daughter's swimsuit and a towel from the utility room. Candy said the entire visit took about fifteen minutes. When she left, she was headed to the Target store in Plano to buy a father's day card but realized her watch had stopped working, and she was late getting back to the church.
Candy
Credit: Dallas Morning News
Chief Abbott then began asking Candy about her affair with Allan Gore. Her version of events was not much different than Allan's, and she admitted to being the aggressor in the relationship but insisted that it had been over for at least eight months. Then, blatantly, an officer in the interrogation room said, "You murdered Betty Gore, didn't you?" Calm and collected, Candy said, "No, I didn't." They were shocked by her demeanor; a typical housewife would have broken into hysterics. When asked to take a polygraph test, she refused. But before Candy left, they took her fingerprints, DNA samples, and shoes.
Sergeant Jim Cron, head of the physical evidence section of the Dallas County Sheriff's Department, had spent three hours comparing Steve Deffibaugh's photo of the bloody thumbprint on the freezer door to the prints taken from Candy Montgomery. He did not doubt that the bloody imprint found in the utility room belonged to Candy. Even the footprints found at the crime scene were consistent with Candy's shoe size. On June 27, 1980, she was charged with the murder of her friend Betty Gore.
Trial
The town of Wylie was shocked, naturally. Candy Montogomery was a pillar in their community, and the Lucas Methodist church was overwhelmingly supportive of her. She was released on bail and retained counsel from Dan Crowder, an attorney she knew from church. Crowder had never been close to a murder case before, and suddenly he had the biggest one in Texas on his hands. He enlisted the help of a Houston psychiatrist, Dr. Fred Fason. Under hypnosis treatments, Fasom had learned about the day nine-year-old Jimmy beat Candy in a race and her mother had scolded her. By October 1980, Crowder was ready for trial. When it started, he stunned everyone with the declaration that his client would plead self-defense. Candy was called to the stand as a witness, and Betty's death was described as follows.
That morning, Candy arrived at the Gore home to ask Betty if her daughter could stay over another night and said she would be happy to take her to swim lessons that afternoon to save Betty the trip. The women sat down for a while and chatted, then Candy glanced at her watch and said she needed to be on her way because she had more errands to run and asked Betty to grab a swimsuit. Betty didn't stir, and with a blank face, she calmly said, "Candy, are you having an affair with Allan?" Hesitantly, Candy told Betty the truth and said it had been over between them for months. Betty slowly rose from her chair and walked through the utility room door, returning with a three-foot ax clutched in her hands.
Candy was more worried about what Betty would say than what she would do. Candy stood up but didn't move from the chair. "Betty?" All at once, her rage erupted. She flung her hand and shoved Candy backward into the utility room. Betty rushed in after, holding the ax diagonally across her chest and screaming, "You can't have him!" Candy had no place to hide; Betty was between Candy and both exits. Betty raised the ax over her head and swung at Candy, she missed, and the blade bounced off the linoleum floor and sliced a gash into Candy's toe. Just as it did, Candy grabbed the ax, wrapping her fingers around the blade. Her pleading now turned to anger. The women started wrestling for control over the weapon, kicking and kneeing at each other's legs. The frantic, high-pitched barking of the Gores' dogs came from outside the house, witnessing their struggle through the windows.
Candy shoved the ax against Betty's body with all her might. Betty reeled backward and fell against the freezer door, her feet slipping slightly on the linoleum. Candy didn't hesitate. As Betty struggled to regain her balance, her body facing away, Candy brought the ax up with both hands and down onto Betty's head. It sounded like a hollow pop, and blood gushed from her skull, but she continued to struggle to her feet. Betty grabbed for the ax again, and tears erupted from Candy's eyes. "Please let me go. I don't want him." Betty's eyes flared, placing one finger to her lips and gripping the ax with her other hand; she breathed deeply, "Shhhh." It echoed through Candy's subconscious like an alarm. She grabbed the ax and aggressively used it to push Betty backward. Candy finally had time to raise the ax and brought it down with all the strength she could gather. She only stopped at the point of complete exhaustion.
Dr. Fason testified that Candy suffered from a childhood trauma that had triggered her dissociative reaction. He stated his empathic opinion that Candy never consciously intended to take Betty Gore's life. When Betty placed her fingers to her lips and said, "Shh," Candy fell into a blind rage. As a result, she was unaware of how many times she had hit Betty with the ax, so the number of blows didn't factor into the juror's decision. On October 29, 1980, a jury of three men and nine women found Candy not guilty. The court was outraged.
Credit: Dallas Morning News
Thoughts
This case had many jaw-dropping moments for me. For instance, Candy had enough sanity to jump in the shower after just hitting a woman 41 times with an ax, trying to remove blood and evidence from her skin and clothes. Then she ran home, tossed her clothing into the washer, and changed into an almost identical outfit of jeans and a burgundy shirt. Candy immediately returned to the church to finish the vacation bible school activities. She had even answered a few calls from Allan that day. He was concerned that Betty wasn't picking up. Candy acted as if everything was fine while aware a baby was left unattended in her crib and Betty was dead in the utility room. Unfortunately, these facts didn't seem to make it to trial. Many people believe Candy attacked Betty in a fit of jealousy. Sadly, no one will ever know for sure.
I tried to keep this as detailed as possible without ruining too many little surprises when the new series comes out this year. I want you guys to be as shocked and appalled as I was. If you're hungry for more, I highly suggest reading Evidence of Love by John Bloom and Jim Atkinson. It is a detailed and factual account of everything that took place. Candy Montgomery and Allan Gore helped complete the book with their full cooperation. I gathered much of my research from Bloom and Atkinson's diligent work. I binge-read it in two days and consider it one of the most entertaining true crime books I have read so far.
Where are they now?
After the trial, Pat and Candy Montgomery stayed together and moved to Georgia, but they later divorced. Candy now goes by her maiden name of Candace Wheeler and works as a mental health therapist for teens and adults.
Allan had already remarried between his wife's death and Candy's trial. However, Allan lost custody of his girls to Betty's parents and soon became estranged from them despite his remarriage.
Candy
Credit: Oxygen
Sources
Snapped S 30 E 15
Evidence of Love: a True Story of Passion and Death in the Suburbs by John Bloom and Jim Atkinson
https://www.texasmonthly.com/news-politics/love-and-death-in-silicon-prairie-part-i-candy-montgomerys-affair/
https://www.texasmonthly.com/news-politics/love-and-death-in-silicon-prairie-part-ii-the-killing-of-betty-gore/
https://soapboxie.com/government/Betty-Gore-Candy-Montgomery
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-9543669/Inside-story-Friday-13th-axe-murderer-Candy-Montgomery.html
https://www.dallasnews.com/arts-entertainment/tv/2021/10/26/hollywood-plans-to-tell-wylie-ax-killers-story-41-years-later-why-cant-we-let-it-go/
https://www.dallasnews.com/arts-entertainment/tv/2021/10/28/who-is-d-fw-ax-killer-candy-montgomery-and-howd-she-spawn-two-hollywood-shows/
https://www.oxygen.com/snapped/crime-news/what-happened-to-candy-montgomery-betty-gore
https://www.upi.com/Archives/1980/10/30/A-jury-decided-Candace-Montgomery-was-acting-in-self/3030341730000/