Dead Man Talking: What a Grand Rapids serial killer’s confession tapes revealed

Warning: This report contains graphic details of and images related to violent crimes against women.

GRAND RAPIDS, Mich. (WOOD) — Detectives feared it was too late: Soon, whatever secrets Garry Dean Artman held would die with him.

“It was a huge concern,” Kent County Sheriff’s Office Detective Lt. Andy Hinds told Target 8.

It was December 2023 and Artman was dying of lung cancer. Only a few months earlier, in September, he had been convicted of the 1996 rape and murder of Sharon Hammack.

“HE WANTED TO TALK ABOUT ‘BODIES'”

Up to that point, Artman’s health hadn’t mattered much. He stood trial for and was convicted of Hammack’s murder even though he had been diagnosed with terminal illness. All the while, he had made it clear he wasn’t talking, even declaring detectives “(expletive) idiots” in open court.

But less than two months after Artman’s sentencing, investigators received a message from the Jackson prison where he was housed.

“Apparently, (Artman) had sent a note that he wanted to talk about ‘bodies,’ was the word we heard he used,” Hinds recalled.

He and other detectives promptly traveled to Henry Ford Hospital in Jackson, where Artman awaited surgery for late-stage lung cancer.

“We get there and we find out that we’re not able to talk to him at that time because of some medical complications,” Hinds explained. “So at that point, we weren’t sure if he was ever going to be in a condition where he could speak with us.”

The stakes were exceptionally high.

Three decades after more than a dozen women vanished from Grand Rapids’ Division Avenue, only Hammack’s family had received any answers or semblance of justice.

Was there a killer — or killers — still walking free in West Michigan? Or did all of the murdered and missing women fall prey to Artman, a long-haul trucker who lived in Kent County in the 1990s and early 2000s?

Those were the questions detectives sought to answer.

They are also the reason Target 8 obtained recordings of Artman’s deathbed confession through the Freedom of Information Act.

SIXTEEN WOMEN, ONE STREET

Artman had moved to Grand Rapids in June 1992 after serving 11 years in prison for raping two teenagers at knifepoint near his hometown of Port Huron on the east side of Michigan.

Upon his release, he landed at the Herkimer Hotel on Division Avenue just north of Wealthy Street, where he had a front-row seat to the city’s then-thriving red-light district.

Before websites like Craigslist and now-defunct Backpage, women worked street corners up and down the gritty 3-mile stretch that cut through the heart of Grand Rapids.

From December 1993 to October 1996, 16 women disappeared from the area of Division Avenue roughly between Wealthy and Burton streets. Twelve of the 16 were found murdered, their bodies dumped in isolated woods and brush in and around Grand Rapids.

Four more are still missing, including Fonda Lockridge, 26.

“She left from home one day and never came back,” Tashica Lockridge said of her mom’s disappearance on June 16, 1995.

Tashica Lockridge was 6 years old and her sister Chenique was 18 months.

“I can’t really remember too much because I was kind of young,” Tashica Lockridge said. “Her smile. That’s pretty much about it. Just natural beauty.”

The sisters said family members who raised them rarely spoke about what happened to their mom.

“I’m just like, ‘You know what, I want to talk about it. To everybody,’” Tashica Lockridge declared. “At least me and my sister are gonna keep it alive if don’t nobody else want to.”

Kandi Katerberg hasn’t stopped pushing for answers, either. Her mom Lesa Otberg was the first woman found murdered.

Otberg was 23 when she vanished from Division Avenue and Cottage Grove Street on New Year’s Eve 1993.

Three months later, a woman walking her granddaughter home from school in Muskegon spotted legs amid brush where Stein Street dead-ends near Hackley Avenue.

Lesa Otberg was missing no more.

“I don’t know who she would be now,” said Katerberg, who was 9 when her mom was murdered. “I love to picture it. That she would have gotten clean and healthy. I look back at who I was at 23 years old. I’ve had many years to grow and develop and make better choices in my life. She just didn’t have that option. Somebody took that option away.”

Katerberg believes her mom turned to drugs in part due to trauma she experienced in adolescence.

“I just want to know what happened,” Katerberg said. “My brain has always worked that way. I want to know what she went through. I want to know all of it. Because I feel like then I can actually heal and move on and grieve.”

Of the 12 women whose bodies were found, four had been strangled, including Otberg. One woman, 33-year-old Pam Verile, was beaten to death. Remains of the other women were too decomposed to determine a cause of death. In some cases, it was impossible to determine if the women had been clothed, but at least four were found nude, two were partially clothed and two were fully clothed.

“HE WAS AWAKE”

“Ever since we identified (Artman) as a suspect using forensic genetic genealogy, we were hopeful that we could solve a lot of cases and provide answers for all our victims out there,” Hinds, the sheriff’s office detective lieutenant, said.

But one year after Artman’s identification and arrest, investigators could still tie him to only one of the mid-’90s murders: Sharon Hammack.

In September 2023, a Kent County jury took 30 minutes to find Artman guilty of raping, stabbing, strangling and hog-tying the 29-year-old mother of two, who had been stuck in the vice grip of the crack epidemic ravaging American cities.

Hammack had been doing sex work to pay for the addiction she would never get the chance to overcome.

“She always ran when we tried to see her,” Hammack’s sister Tina DeYoung said, testifying at trial about driving Division Avenue, searching for her sister. “She was ashamed.”

DeYoung told Target 8 that Hammack never brought drugs or her life on the street anywhere near her family.

“She was a beautiful soul who didn’t deserve to have what was done with her,” DeYoung said. “She was a loving sister, mother, daughter. She loved life. She got an addiction and it led her down the wrong path.”

Artman, a long-haul trucker, had proclaimed his innocence since his arrest in August 2022. He’d had sex with Hammack, sure, but he had not hurt her, he said.

Finally, about two months after his sentencing, it appeared Artman was ready to talk. But before detectives could get to him, he underwent surgery and he had not regained consciousness since.

“(The Michigan Department of Corrections) advised Garry was removed from the ventilator and was not expected to live more than a couple days,” a detective wrote in a report compiled by Michigan State Police.

But on Dec. 13, the convicted killer defied predictions.

“We learned that he was awake and capable of speaking,” Hinds said.

A HANDSHAKE AND AN APOLOGY

At 7:27 p.m. on Dec. 13, 2023, four detectives gathered in Artman’s fourth-floor room at Henry Ford Hospital in Jackson.

“You get your Dr. Pepper, Garry?” Hinds asked.

“Yep,” replied Artman, his voice a hoarse whisper.

To speak with investigators, Artman required a soda and sandwich.

“He wanted a Subway sandwich double meat, I believe it was, and a Dr. Pepper,” said Kent County Detective Paul VanRhee, who attended the interview with Hinds, Grand Rapids Police Department Detective Case Weston and at least one additional investigator from another agency.

“It’s hard to speculate what (Artman) was thinking or the reasons why (he decided to talk),” VanRhee said. “He did mention that he didn’t want to go to Maryland to face trial. So that likely played a role.”

In addition to Hammack’s murder, DNA had linked the trucker to the murder of Dusty Shuck in Maryland.

Strangers in life, Shuck and Hammack would be forever connected in death. The two women had crossed paths with the same killer 600 miles and 10 years apart.

In May 2006, a driver spotted Shuck’s stabbed and beaten body on the shoulder of I-70 near a truck stop, 25 miles west of Baltimore. Shuck, 24, was an Arizona native who had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and was known to check out of treatment and hitch rides cross country.

“Is there anything I can do for you right now?” Hinds asked Artman two minutes into the Dec. 13 bedside interview.

“Let me ask you this,” Artman whispered. “(Are you willing) to shake my hand?”

“Mm-hmm. Absolutely,” Hinds responded.

“I’m sorry,” Artman said.

“You don’t — Hey, we know you are,” Hinds replied. “We know you are and we’re not here to judge.”

“I’m sorry,” Artman repeated. “All of it.”

“I believe you are,” Hinds said.

“SUSAN HAYWARD” WAS MOST MEMORABLE VICTIM

Hinds told Artman that he had spoken with Artman’s sister, who had contacted investigators several times.

“Can I call her?” Artman asked.

“We can probably arrange that,” Hinds replied. “But, Garry, here’s the thing, right? You know why we’re here and you know what information we want to hear about. I’ll give you what you want and you give me one name. One girl from Grand Rapids with a few details, and I’ll go (call your sister) right out of the gate.”

What Artman said next was redacted — removed — from the audio of the confession recording released to Target 8 under FOIA. Kent County detectives initially withheld certain details as they worked to corroborate them independently. But investigators have since shared with Target 8 the name Artman mentioned repeatedly throughout the interview: Susan Hayward.

“Where was she dumped at?” asked Hinds.

“Hawthorn. I told you,” Artman replied, nonsensically.

“What year was that?” Hinds asked. “What year was that, Garry?”

“Losing it,” Artman said, apparently struggling to remember or maintain focus.

“Was that before Sharon Hammack or after Sharon Hammack?” Hinds questioned.

“Sharon. Sharon Hammack,” Artman responded, as if suddenly remembering the name of the woman he murdered, wrapped in a blanket and discarded on the side of 76th Street between Patterson Avenue and Kraft Avenue in Caledonia Township.

“Well, we know about Sharon Hammack,” Hinds reminded Artman.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Artman sputtered

“Like I said, I’ll make (the phone call with) your sister happen,” Hinds reiterated, “but tell me something I don’t know about a girl I don’t know.”

“Check your database,” Artman responded, suggesting detectives would find Susan Hayward in their records.

“What did you do to her?” Hinds asked.

“Killed her,” Artman replied.

“OK, where did you leave or dump her body?” Hinds asked.

“You gave me your word,” Artman said, referring to Hinds’ promise to call his sister.

“I just need a couple details to corroborate that you’re responsible,” Hinds explained. “Just one or two. That’s how it works.”

“Never mind,” Artman said, and later, “I’m doing the best I (expletive) can.”

At that point, an investigator from another agency interjected what he found online when searching for Susan Hayward.

“Academy Award-winning film actress,” the investigator said. “That’s all I could find on Google.”

Artman confirmed he was talking about that Susan Hayward, a film star from the 1940s.

“She played in a couple movies,” Artman explained. “(Hayward’s name is) all I can remember, for the life of me.”

It was not clear from the redacted recordings if Susan Hayward was a victim’s street name or a nickname Artman created for a victim who resembled the actress.

Detectives compared Hayward’s picture to that of Linda McHugh, 29. She was the first woman to disappear. It happened on Artman’s birthday, Dec. 13, in 1993 — 30 years to the day before his deathbed interview.

McHugh had asked her boyfriend to pick her up from the Bottle Shop on Division south of Burton Street. But when he arrived, she wasn’t there, according to his statement to police.

While investigators think McHugh resembled Hayward, they have not been able to confirm the true identity of the woman to whom Artman referred as Susan Hayward.

The body of Linda Sue McHugh has never been found.

“I’M A MONSTER”

“We had been talking to (Artman), and he indicated it was his birthday,” GRPD Detective Case Weston said of the bedside interview. “Throughout the conversation of him talking about it being his birthday, he asked us to sing him ‘Happy Birthday.’ With our good nature and us trying to develop a rapport with him, we reluctantly agreed to sing him ‘Happy Birthday.’”

Artman’s sister was on the phone for the birthday salute.

Seconds after the “Happy Birthday” jingle concluded, she learned that the brother with whom she had recently reconnected was a serial killer.

“I just threw them away as if they were garbage.”

Garry Artman

“I’m a monster,” Artman told his sister. “I’m a monster… I’ve killed people… I just threw them away as if they were garbage. I thought I was better. I am so sorry, (sister’s name).”

The sister’s responses were redacted from the recordings.

At one point, Artman instructed her to “pull over,” indicating she was behind the wheel during the call.

“I’m a great big, horrible monster from what Dad did to us,” Artman declared.

One of Artman’s brothers — there were six siblings in all — separately told police that belt whippings were “frequent” for minor infractions growing up.

“Dad would line us all up, bare-(expletive) naked,” the brother said. “He was good with the belt.”

“I’ll see you in heaven.”

Garry Artman to his sister.

Artman told his sister that he was depending on the Lord’s forgiveness and had been reading the Bible “a long time now.”

“I love you,” Artman said. “I’ll see you when you get to heaven. I’ll be right there. Just like Mom. Just like Mom.”

“I NEVER GOT CAUGHT. TA-DA!”

At one point, after detectives said they were struggling to get details from Artman, his sister asked him if he had “killed all the women the same way.”

“No. Some were strangled,” Artman said. “Some were knifepoint. Some across the throat.”

Later, Artman told investigators he didn’t care about his victims’ race, only that he could get them into his vehicle.

“Black. White. Didn’t matter,” said Artman. “I’d (expletive) ‘em.”

Of the 16 murdered and missing women, five were Black, 10 were white and one was Latina.

Artman told investigators his M.O. changed depending on circumstances and that he “winged them all,” though he preferred knives.

“I’m just curious as to maybe there’s times where you would want to strangle somebody because you don’t want to make a mess,” Weston said.

“Bingo,” Artman responded. “Dumpster.”

“Yeah, the dumpster connection I’m having a hard time with,” Weston said, noting that of the women whose bodies were found, none were in dumpsters.

Artman discarded Hammack and Shuck on the side of the road and the other women were found in woods and brush.

Artman insisted that if police found the bodies, it wasn’t his handiwork.

“I didn’t get caught,” Artman boasted. “For all those years, I never got caught. Ta-da!”

ELEVEN VICTIMS, FEW DETAILS

Artman left at least one victim, he told the investigators, in a dumpster along what he called “Old Riverside Drive” in Grand Rapids, perhaps referring to Riverside Park north of Knapp Street NE.

“So what happened with that one?” an investigator asked. “Just talk me through it.”

“Dumpster,” Artman replied.

“But like, how’d you meet her?” the detective questioned.

“Picked her up on Division… (expletive) her and killed her,” Artman said.

“Do you remember what she looked like?” the investigator asked.

“Nope,” Artman responded. “After a while all the faces start (to blend).”

Later, Hinds asked Artman how he killed the woman at “Riverside.”

“Knife to throat,” Artman replied.

“Let me ask you a real simple question so we’re on the same page,” Hinds said. “How many girls, female prostitutes, or just females in general in Grand Rapids did you kill?

“Go for 11,” Artman responded. “See what you come up with.”

“Do you remember any locations?” an investigator asked.

“Check your database,” Artman replied again and again.

“I’m working on it,” was another of his standard responses.

“They needed to die.”

Garry Artman of his victims

Artman said Division Avenue was his only hunting ground.

“They needed to die,” he said.

“Why was it that they needed to die?” Weston said.

“Don’t know,” Artman replied. “Like I said, I’m a monster.”

BLUE-FLOWERED DRESS, GLASSES, HIGH HEELS

The three detectives from Kent County and Grand Rapids said Artman appeared to make a genuine effort to extract memories.

“(But) he was having tremendous difficulty breathing (and) was really struggling to provide details,” Weston explained. “For example, he would say that he had picked them up on Division Avenue and that he had strangled them in his car, but then he wouldn’t be able to tell us exactly where he had dumped this particular victim or what had happened with the remains.”

That lack of detail made it impossible for investigators to corroborate facts and connect the admitted serial killer to specific murders.

Artman recalled wrapping Hammack in a tan blanket and said he killed Shuck because she wouldn’t have sex with him “anymore.”

He also remembered some details about a woman he said he strangled with a cord while living near Marne, a farming community in Ottawa County.

“Blue-flowered dress,” he said. “And If I’m not mistaken, she had glasses. I don’t know. I think she had glasses. Don’t quote me on that. She had high heels, I remember that.”

“Did you ever kill any women in your house?” Weston asked. “Did you ever bring ‘em back to your house?

“Where do you think I did it at?” Artman asked.

“I thought maybe just in a car,” Weston replied.

On Nov. 6, 1994, hunters stumbled upon skeletal remains on 32nd Avenue where it dead-ends near I-96 between Coopersville and Marne. The unidentified female, referred to as “Matilda” for two decades, was found less than 5 miles from one of Artman’s addresses on Ironwood Drive.

In 2021, the Ottawa County Sheriff’s Office pursued forensic genetic genealogy, a process through which analysts compare crime scene DNA against profiles submitted to publicly available DNA databases, like GEDMatch.

The DNA Doe Project reconstructed “Matilda’s” family tree in reverse and traced her to relatives in Minnesota.

“Matilda” was Shelly Rae Kephart Christian.

She was 29 when she was last seen in Minneapolis in October 1993.

“I can’t thank Michigan enough for loving my sister before I knew where she was,” said her sister, Shanna Christian, who believes her sister’s struggle with addiction began with pain pills prescribed after several knee surgeries in her teen years.

Shanna Christian does not know how or why her sister ended up in West Michigan. What she does know: Her sister wore glasses and, when she was working the street, high heels.

“Female clothing, including a pair of blue high-heeled shoes was found in the area, within 1/8th of a mile from the body,” the Ottawa County Sheriff’s Office wrote in an investigative summary (PDF) prepared for Target 8. “However, it is not known if these clothes belonged to the victim, as there was no clothing found directly on or near the body. Additionally, this area of rural Wright Township is known to have been utilized for teenage social activities.”

In the end, Ottawa County detectives said Artman did not provide details investigators could use to confirm he was Kephart Christian’s killer.

“Investigation shows that Artman lived in the Marne and Walker, MI areas in the early 1990s,” the sheriff’s office wrote. “The Marne address is in close proximity to where Shelly Kephart/Christian’s decomposed body was found on 11/06/1994… Garry Artman may be responsible for the murder, though there is no direct evidence that ties him to (it).”

The sheriff’s department said Kephart Christian’s murder remains open and under investigation.

BROKEN ARM, WHITE OUTFIT, SO-SO’S LOUNGE

The only other victim details Artman provided came in the interview’s fourth and final hour when detectives resorted to showing him pictures of victims.

It was a last-ditch attempt. They had hoped he would offer information on his own, unaided. But that hadn’t happened and investigators knew the clock was ticking.

“She had a broken arm,” Artman said, pointing to a picture of a smiling Victoria Moore.

She was 29 when she was last seen near Division and Logan Street in the summer of ‘96.

“Dressed in white,” Artman recalled. “Came out of So-So’s.”

“That’s a bar that used to be on Division,” Weston, the GRPD detective, explained.

Moore’s skeletal remains were discovered Oct. 27, 1996, along 20 Mile Road near Sparta Avenue in Tyrone Township in northwestern Kent County.

“(Moore) was found 25 minutes north and a little bit west of Grand Rapids,” one of the detectives told Artman.

“Nope,” Artman responded. “Not my work.”

“A minute ago, you said you killed her,” the detective said.

But Artman insisted he would not have traveled that far to discard a body.

Later, digging through police reports, investigators discovered the mistake Artman may have made.

On July 9, 1995, Deanna Dennis reported her sister, Cathleen Dennis, missing to Grand Rapids police. The two had traveled to Grand Rapids from their hometown of Omaha, Nebraska, to work Division Avenue’s well-established red-light district.

“Deanna told (GRPD) that she and Cathleen arrived by bus on Friday, 7/07/95,” an officer wrote in the missing persons report. “They arrived in Grand Rapids (at) approximately 1400 hours on that day and got a room… She said they remained in their room until 2100 hours and then took a cab to Soso’s Bar. After drinking at Soso’s they both left to begin working Division Avenue as prostitutes.”

Deanna Dennis said she last saw her sister getting into a light-colored older model car at Division and Putnam. She also told police her sister had a cast on her right arm and wore a white outfit with a skirt.

Cathleen Dennis was Black. So was Victoria Moore.

On Jan. 2, 2024, Detective Lt. Hinds called Tommy Dennis in Nebraska. Dennis was 7 years old when his mom left home and never returned.

“Hi, Tommy,” Hinds said from his desk at the Kent County Sheriff’s Office. “How are you doing today, sir?”

“Good,” Tommy Dennis responded.

“We wanted to follow up with you and let you know we had a chance to interview Garry Artman. Unfortunately, he did reveal to us some details that (make us) believe he is responsible for your mom’s murder,” Hinds said. “I wish I had better news for you and my condolences are with you, sir.”

“Thank you,” Dennis responded. “Wow.”

“Whew,” Dennis told Target 8. “It was tough to hear, but necessary at the same time. I guess (Artman) admitted to them that he killed this young Black lady … which matches the description of my mom and then disposed of her body in a dumpster.”

Addressing Artman, Dennis said, “You threw her away like trash. You literally treated her like trash.”

He said his mom and aunt traveled out of state to do sex work to support their families.

“I remember little things about her,” he explained. “She would make the room laugh. She was just that kind of person… She had a way about her.”

Dennis said his mom left behind three beautiful kids who are doing amazing things in this world.

“Knowing that she met the end the way that she did,” Dennis said, “that just empowers me to want to do more — to be more in this world. I feel like I owe her to live the life she didn’t have the opportunity to live.”

Still digesting the news about his own mom, his mind nonetheless turned to other families.

“There are still questions that we have that we won’t ever… we won’t know,” he said. “But there are other families who don’t even have as much as we have. So I definitely feel for those other families.”

NOT THE ONLY KILLER

Fonda Lockridge disappeared without a trace in June 1995, less than two weeks before Cathleen Dennis.

“The complainant came in to report her sister missing,” an officer wrote in Lockridge’s missing persons report. “She said her sister left to go to the store and hasn’t returned since. She said this is unlike her sister and she is very worried.”

Several months earlier, Robin Scott’s family reported her missing.

“(Robin’s mom) last saw her at 0300 hours on 1-18-95 to go to work on Division Avenue,” wrote the officer who took the report. “Robin also has a drug problem.”

A friend told police he’d last seen Scott at the Amoco station at Hall Street and Division on Jan. 17 or 18.

“He observed her walking back to Putnam and Division, which is the area she normally worked,” the officer reported. “He has not seen her since and does not know where she might be at.”

Scott was 37 and left behind an 18-year-old son.

Two years earlier, Linda McHugh disappeared from Division Avenue just south of Burton.

Based on the location and condition of the unsolved murders in which remains were recovered, it appears Artman remains a viable suspect in eight of the cases, though he has not been conclusively tied to any of them outside of Hammack and the still-missing Dennis.

Police believe four of the women found were likely killed by perpetrators other than Artman. 

Victoria Moore, whose remains were found in a wooded area off 20 Mile Road, had been threatened days before she disappeared. 

“Moore had last been seen on August 15, 1996, leaving her sister’s home on Prince Street SE in Grand Rapids,” Kent County detectives wrote in an investigative summary (PDF) prepared for Target 8. 

The clothes she had on — a blue jean, sleeveless jumper dress with a V-neck — were “consistent” with the clothing she was found in. 

“(Moore) had testified just days earlier in a Grand Rapids murder trial, where she was confronted and threatened after giving testimony prosecutors described as key to the case,” detectives wrote. “Moore expressed fear to family and victim-witness staff following those threats and disappeared shortly after.” 

The body of Pam Verile, 33, was found June 2, 1995, on the banks of the Grand River off Veterans Memorial Drive near Riverbend Drive in Walker, according to police reports. The mother of three was clothed and had been beaten to death, not stabbed or strangled as was Artman’s preferred method of killing. Walker police don’t think he was involved. 

Verile struggled with addiction and did sex work to pay for it, but her daughter has never believed her mom’s murder was connected to the string of killings.

“I don’t want her to be another number. To me, she wasn’t just some prostitute or drug addict,” Sara Brockmiller told Target 8. “Those were her life choices, but that didn’t make her who she was. It didn’t define her as a person. She was still a very good person. People loved her. People either wanted to be her or know her or be with her.”

On Nov. 17, 1995, two boys cutting across train tracks near Ann Street and Elizabeth Avenue NW in Grand Rapids spotted a body on the bank of a creek. Dawn Shaver, 25, had been strangled and beaten. She was fully clothed. 

Grand Rapids police said her jacket had her boyfriend’s blood on it. He told police he and his girlfriend were both addicted to crack and Shaver did sex work to pay for it. 

The boyfriend died from “acute methadone intoxication” four months later. The medical examiner ruled his death a suicide. 

On July 1, 1997, a worker discovered a skeleton behind a roadside park on M-21 in Ada. For 25 years, the female remains were known as “Ada Bones.”

In 2022, the Kent County Sheriff’s Office announced it had identified the woman using forensic genetic genealogy. Stephanie Renee Judson had her name back.

Judson, originally from Benton Harbor, was in her early 20s when her family lost contact with her in the late 1980s. Judson was a mother of two who had a “heart of gold,” according to family.

“Investigators note that Garry Dean Artman is not a suspect in Judson’s case,” detectives wrote in a summary (PDF) prepared for Target 8. “Artman was incarcerated during much of the … 80’s and was not released until the early 1990’s, eliminating him from consideration in this homicide.”

Kent County detectives believe Judson was murdered in the late ’80s.

“Over the years, multiple tips and interviews have linked Judson’s disappearance to Gregory ‘Greg’ Kelly, a known sex trafficker,” investigators wrote in the summary. “Family members and associates repeatedly named Kelly as the person responsible, citing threats, violence, and confession he allegedly made.”

Judson’s sister told Target 8 Kelly convinced Judson to follow him to Grand Rapids from her hometown of Benton Harbor. Kelley, who was never charged with Judson’s murder, was sentenced in 2005 for transporting sex workers. He died in prison in 2020 of complications from COVID-19.

The first woman found murdered, Lesa Otberg, was also likely killed by someone other than Artman. She had been missing for three months when her strangled body was found off a dead-end road in Muskegon. 

“I don’t believe (Artman) was responsible for your mom’s death because we actually asked him that in person,” Detective Weston told Otberg’s daughter during a meeting in June 2025 at Grand Rapids police headquarters. “I didn’t know if you knew that. He said he’d never transported anybody to Muskegon.” 

Kandi Katerberg wasn’t surprised. She has long suspected a man named Jimal Lacey, who knew her mom and several other sex workers. 

“He put my mom in his vehicle the day she disappeared,” remarked Katerberg, who reviewed reports compiled by the Muskegon Police Department, the agency in charge of her mom’s case. “He admitted that he had my mom’s identification, but he said he only had that because he found it in a trash can at a car wash.”

Lacey, now 60, is serving a life sentence for choking two sex workers who survived, one of whom was only 15.

Artman, in his deathbed confession, told detectives he knew he wasn’t the only one killing sex workers in the mid-’90s. 

“I know somebody was encroaching on my territory,” Artman said, referring to Division Avenue. “(Lacey’s name) sounds right, for some reason.” 

The task force that investigated the murders looked closely at Lacey, too, noting that the string of killings stopped after he was locked up.

That’s around the time that Artman told investigators in his deathbed confession that he stopped killing, saying he was getting “sloppy” and was afraid of going back to prison. And in 1997, he was interviewed by a state police trooper after Michigan prison authorities warned that women were afraid of him while he was behind bars.

Lacey, 31 at the time of his arrest in December 1996, admitted he knew some of the murder victims, but denied killing any of them. 

“I’ve actually talked to the original investigators from back at that time and they really felt confident that he might be responsible for your mom’s murder,” Weston told Katerberg. “My understanding is that he was from Muskegon.”

Katerberg is careful not to focus exclusively on one suspect, but she won’t give up her mission to identify her mom’s killer. 

“If we do nothing, we find nothing,” Katerberg said. “She was my mother. All the families deserve closure — moms, daughters, sisters, brothers. The community deserves answers.” 

Though Weston does not consider Artman a suspect in Otberg’s murder, he had a different message for Lockridge’s daughters.

“We interviewed Garry Artman when he was in prison just before he died and he had given us information that he killed — he didn’t know what her name was — but he knew that her arm was in a cast,” Weston told Tashica and Chenique Lockridge, who met with him the same day Katerberg did.  

“It was without a doubt, he had done this,” Weston said, referring to Cathleen Dennis’ case. “He had said that he sexually assaulted (Dennis), murdered her and he ended up putting her in a dumpster. The reason I bring it up is it was within about two weeks of when your mom’s disappearance was.”

Weston believes Artman likely murdered Fonda Lockridge, but her daughters aren’t so sure.

“I mean, anything is possible. You can’t really exclude that situation out,” said Tashica Lockridge, who was 6 when her mom disappeared. “But for me personally, even though I was so young, I just can’t see it. I’m sorry, but I can’t. Or maybe it’s just that I won’t allow myself to see it in that type of way. I don’t wanna see it in that type of way. But I just can’t see it. I don’t really feel like she would go get in a car with this strange person, despite the stuff she was doing.”

The Lockridge sisters say they won’t stop pushing for answers. They gave Weston names they’ve heard over the years — people who may have been involved in their mom’s disappearance. They heard, too, that her killer buried her in a backyard. 

“We had hoped that maybe we could clear up some of these answers,” Weston said, referencing Artman’s confession. “And we did a little bit. Unfortunately, your mom wasn’t one of the ones we were able to clear up. There’s so little information, honestly, on your mom’s disappearance that there’s really not any way to say one way or the other definitively … until she’s found.”

ARE THERE MORE VICTIMS?

Artman’s interview lasted nearly four hours. In the final minutes, Weston questioned him about items found in a storage unit he rented in Florida.

“Did you ever take anything from any of these girls?” Weston asked. “I mean like bras, panties, earrings. Anything like that? Did you ever keep a trophy or a momento?

“Yeah, but they were always washed,” Artman replied, confirming that multiple pairs of underwear, teddies and bras police removed from his storage unit came from the women he murdered. 

“You got ‘em,” Artman said.

“So any pair that’s in there was from somebody you killed?” Weston asked. “That’s what you’re getting at?”

“Yep,” Artman replied.

Kent County detectives said they submitted the undergarments for testing, but the lab found no usable DNA. 

Artman died on Dec. 28, 2023, two weeks after his confession. 

When the Kent County Sheriff’s Office identified and arrested Artman, the agency said it notified police departments nationwide in states he likely traveled. So far, law enforcement has not identified any additional victims. 

Artman reportedly covered 2.5 million miles from Florida to California over 26 years as an over-the-road trucker.

If you have information about Garry Artman or any potential victims, contact the Kent County Sheriff’s Office at 616.632.6125, Grand Rapids police at 616.456.3380 or Silent Observer at 616.774.2345.