Beverly Carter came into the world in 1963, in the small town of Anniston, Alabama. Even as a teenager, she radiated ambition. By sixteen, she was balancing school with a job as a waitress, driven by a dream to create a better life. It was around this time she met Carl Carter—three years older, charming, and soon to be her husband.
Their marriage began with promise but was tested early on. One harrowing night, Carl drove under the influence with Beverly in the car. When she urged him to stop, he responded with violence. It was the first of several painful betrayals. Later, Beverly Carter discovered he had been unfaithful. Still, she chose to stay—hoping time and commitment could heal the wounds. And, for a while, they did.
New Beginnings in Arkansas
Eventually, the couple settled in Scott, Arkansas—a quiet town where life moved slower. There, they raised three sons. Beverly Carter found joy in motherhood, creating a home filled with warmth and consistency. But when her children grew older and more independent, Beverly’s inner fire pushed her to pursue something more.
She started out as a receptionist, then took a leap into real estate. It was a perfect fit. Dedicated and genuine, Beverly Carter quickly became a trusted name in the industry. Her honesty and kindness won over clients and colleagues alike. Real estate wasn’t just a job—it was her second calling, one that brought financial stability and deep personal fulfillment.
In time, the Carters celebrated their twentieth wedding anniversary by renewing their vows. What they couldn’t afford when they were younger, they now embraced with gratitude. It was a celebration of survival, growth, and love.
But in 2003, life delivered a devastating blow. Their son, Christopher—only 19 years old—died in a car crash. He left behind a young wife and child. The grief that followed was nearly unbearable, especially for Beverly Carter. Yet even in her sorrow, she remained the steady heart of the family. She leaned on her grandchildren for comfort and poured herself into her work with renewed purpose.
The Last Appointment
September 25, 2014, was a seemingly routine Thursday. Beverly Carter had just won a lighthearted office contest and was in great spirits, excited about a $50 prize. Her final appointment that evening was a property showing at a house in Scott—a place she knew well. The prospective buyers had claimed they were paying in cash, making it an attractive and quick deal.
Around 5:30 PM, she left the office, called Carl to share her plans, and promised to bring dinner home afterward. Nothing seemed unusual. But hours later, when she hadn’t returned, concern grew quickly.
By 9:00 PM, her phone was going straight to voicemail. Carl, worried and restless, drove to the property she was scheduled to show. What he found chilled him: Beverly’s car was still there, her purse left visibly in the passenger seat.
This was not like her.
As a seasoned real estate agent, Beverly always followed strict safety routines—never bringing personal items inside when showing homes to unknown clients. The scene raised immediate alarm.
Carl Carter arrived at the vacant property in Scott with mounting dread. Beverly’s car was there, her purse clearly visible inside—but the house itself was eerily quiet. The front door was wide open. Calling her name, he stepped inside, hoping for a sign, a sound—anything. But the silence was heavy, and Beverly Carter was gone.
Panic set in. Carl called his son, who checked Beverly’s office. It had already closed for the night. There were no clues, no messages—just absence. That’s when Carl knew: it was time to call the police.
A Troubling Oversight
When law enforcement arrived, they began their investigation immediately. But something raised eyebrows—Carl had entered the home before authorities. Unknowingly, he may have disturbed a possible crime scene, leaving behind fingerprints and unintentionally compromising evidence. It was an unfortunate mistake made out of fear and love.
Carl was questioned thoroughly. He opened up about his marriage—admitting past wrongs, including a violent outburst and infidelity from years ago. But those confessions didn’t point to guilt; they spoke of remorse and growth. Investigators saw a man shaken, not suspicious. They believed his desperation to find Beverly Carter was genuine.
Then came a message—from Beverly’s phone. It arrived shortly after 1:00 AM. According to the text, she had gone out for drinks with friends. But Beverly didn’t drink. The words didn’t sound like her. Something felt off. Carl knew it instantly.
Others sensed it, too. Two of Beverly’s coworkers had reached out to her earlier, hoping for answers. They received strange replies as well—generic, impersonal, and unlike the woman they knew.
One of the women took a bold step. She sent a coded message—a secret signal used in the office to check on each other’s safety. The message referenced a red folder, their code for: “Are you okay?” No response came back.
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The First Lead
By morning, the case was no longer quiet. News spread quickly. Police canvassed the neighborhood near the last property Beverly Carter visited. A neighbor reported seeing a man the night before—a tall, thin white male with short dark hair—exiting a black car parked suspiciously on the front lawn. Officers found tire tracks confirming the story.
Attention shifted to Beverly’s work computer. Fortunately, a colleague had her login credentials. In her calendar was a note: 6:00 PM appointment with “Steve and Crystal Adams.” But it didn’t take long for investigators to realize the names were fake. The email bounced back as invalid. The phone number was linked to an anonymous messaging service.
With a warrant, police contacted the service provider. A digital trail led to a real identity: Arron Lewis, 33 years old, living in Jacksonville—only 15 miles away.
Investigators didn’t storm Arron Lewis’s home. Instead, they opted for surveillance. They needed to be sure he matched the description and, more importantly, to see if he would lead them to Beverly Carter.
Soon enough, they spotted him. A tall, thin man with short dark hair stepped out of the house and into a black Ford Fusion—an exact match to the neighbor’s sighting. Unmarked police units followed.
But Lewis noticed.
He accelerated, trying to shake his tail. The high-speed chase didn’t last long. Losing control, he crashed into a ditch. The collision was brutal. Not wearing a seatbelt, he slammed his face into the steering wheel and was taken to a hospital for treatment.
The Escape
At the time, police had no warrant for an arrest. They had only been observing. But now, with a crash, a suspect, and growing suspicion, the stakes had changed.
After being treated and undergoing an MRI, Lewis pulled a shocking move—he escaped. Unsupervised and injured, he slipped out of the hospital and disappeared.
In an instant, the prime suspect in Beverly Carter’s disappearance was loose.
A manhunt was launched. Authorities released Arron Lewis’s photo to the public. His bruised, swollen face from the crash was now on every screen in the Little Rock and Scott area.
Arron Lewis didn’t remain hidden for long. Two office employees discussing Beverly Carter’s case happened to notice a man at a bus stop. Something about him seemed familiar. One of them approached casually, pretending to ask about the bus schedule, using the moment to get a better look. The resemblance was undeniable—it was him.
While the first man kept Lewis talking, the second quietly called police. But Arron didn’t linger. He wandered off, still unaware he’d been recognized. His next stop was a nearby Subway restaurant—driven by hunger, not caution.
The Public Unmasks Him
Inside the restaurant, Arron’s luck ran out. Several customers recognized him immediately. Unlike the men at the bus stop, they didn’t stay quiet. Voices rose. Fingers pointed. Panic rippled through the store.
Realizing he had been identified, Arron ran. He bolted from the restaurant and dashed into a nearby building in a desperate attempt to hide. But the escape was short-lived. Police were already closing in. Within minutes, officers had the building surrounded and arrested him without resistance.
Back in custody, Arron Lewis immediately began spinning stories. His first version of events? He claimed he hadn’t gone to the house alone. A “friend,” he said, had come along. Arron left them both inside and stepped out. Whatever had happened to Beverly Carter must have occurred while he was gone.
It didn’t take long to unravel that lie. The supposed accomplice was a soldier stationed far away on the day Beverly disappeared. His alibi was airtight, backed by time-stamped records and multiple witnesses.
Cornered, Arron refused to tell the truth. He grew cryptic, hinting that Beverly Carter might still be alive—if only they acted fast. He claimed she had been left somewhere without food or water since his arrest. Hope flickered, and police pressured him for her location.
Arron led investigators to two buildings, claiming Beverly had been held there. Both locations were searched thoroughly. She wasn’t in either.
Again, Arron changed his story. Now, someone else—an unnamed accomplice—had supposedly moved her. But police were done chasing shadows. They turned to something more concrete: his cell phone records.
Tracing his movements on the day of the disappearance brought them to an abandoned concrete plant 25 miles outside Scott. It was a lonely, forgotten property where Arron had once worked. Officers arrived with quiet dread, fearing what they might find.
A Grim Discovery
On September 30th, the search came to an end. Hidden beneath loose earth in a shallow grave, they found Beverly Carter. The burial site hadn’t been well concealed—her elbow was still exposed above the soil. Her body had been wrapped tightly in layer after layer of duct tape, including a full mask over her face.
Beverly hadn’t been shot or stabbed. She had been suffocated.
Presented with the truth, Arron Lewis pivoted once again. Now he claimed he and Beverly Carter were romantically involved, having met through Craigslist. He said they arranged a private rendezvous, and during intimacy, something went terribly wrong.
But the story didn’t hold.
There was no evidence of a relationship—no messages, no calls, no witnesses. More importantly, those who knew Beverly Carter best—her family, her friends—flatly rejected the idea. She was loyal, professional, and above all, a woman of integrity.
Arron wasn’t done, though. His next claim was that he wasn’t the one who had killed her at all. He now blamed his estranged wife, Crystal Lowry, suggesting she was the one who met with Beverly, and that the situation spiraled from there.
Crystal’s Involvement Uncovered
Detectives took a closer look at Crystal. Her phone records showed frequent communication with Arron on the day Beverly Carter vanished—far more than usual. It wasn’t definitive proof, but it was suspicious.
Roughly a month after Beverly’s disappearance, authorities arrested Crystal Lowry. She didn’t hold up under pressure.
She confessed.
At 42, Crystal admitted everything. Though still legally married, she and Arron were barely living as a couple. Financial stress had them trapped in the same house. Divorce wasn’t an option they could afford.
Then Arron presented a terrifying solution: they’d kidnap someone wealthy and demand ransom.
Crystal hesitated, but didn’t refuse. His idea? Target a female real estate agent. They looked successful, often worked alone, and wouldn’t suspect a thing.
Beverly Carter was chosen not by chance—but by calculated, cold intent.
Desperate for money and looking for a target, Arron Lewis and his estranged wife Crystal Lowry scoured real estate listings online. That’s when they found Beverly Carter—a top-performing agent in central Arkansas. Her success, professionalism, and online visibility made her seem ideal.
Arron called her, using a false identity. He claimed to be relocating with his wife from another state and said they were interested in a quiet property near Little Rock. To make the plan work, he chose a listing in a remote area—isolated and ideal for an abduction.
Beverly, cautious and by the book, initially refused. Her agency had rules: no private showings for single male clients, especially in rural areas. But Arron had anticipated this. He passed the phone to Crystal, who pretended to be his wife and assured Beverly Carter she’d be present at the showing too.
Reassured, Beverly agreed.
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The Last Showing
On the evening of September 25, 2014, Beverly drove to the property expecting to meet a couple ready to buy with cash. But only Arron arrived. He apologized—Crystal, he claimed, had been delayed. Beverly, ever professional and polite, let the showing proceed.
They walked through the lower floor first. Then they climbed the stairs. That’s when it happened.
Arron struck.
Weakened from a recent surgery, Beverly Carter had no real way to fight back. He bound her with duct tape and forced her into the trunk of his car. The plan: hold her for ransom—$100,000, to be transferred into her own bank account, then withdrawn using her cards.
But Arron had made a major error: he left her purse in her car at the scene. Her debit cards—and his plan—were suddenly useless.
Arron drove to the only place he could think of—home. His former workplace, the abandoned concrete plant, was no longer a viable hiding spot. The building had changed. He was out of time and out of options.
Once home, he took a photo of Beverly Carter—bound and terrified in the trunk—and sent it to Crystal with one chilling word: “Help.”
Crystal was furious. She hadn’t agreed to have the victim brought to their house. But by the time she got back from work, Beverly was already inside—locked in their bathroom.
Arron had pre-recorded a message of Beverly Carter pleading with her husband, Carl, not to call the police. The idea was to make it seem like a ransom demand was imminent. But the message was never sent. It remained, unsent, on Arron’s phone.
A Fatal Misstep
Arron knew he needed Beverly’s debit cards to access her account. He returned to the property, hoping to grab the purse before anyone realized something was wrong.
But it was too late.
Police were already on scene. Officers were beginning their search. In a surreal twist, one even stopped Arron’s car and asked if he had seen anything strange in the area.
He stayed calm. Gave nothing away. Then drove home.
Back at the house, panic turned to fear. Beverly had seen Arron’s face. And worse—she had seen prescription bottles in the bathroom with Crystal’s name clearly printed on them. If Beverly survived, she could implicate them both.
Crystal refused to be the one to do it. But she made it clear: Beverly Carter couldn’t be allowed to live.
The Murder
Arron drove Beverly Carter toward the old concrete plant, this time with grim intent. Once there, he wrapped duct tape around her head—layer after layer—until she suffocated. Then, in a shallow grave, he tried to hide what they had done. He didn’t even bury her properly—part of her body was left exposed above the dirt.
Crystal’s arrest and confession made a trial unnecessary for her. She pleaded guilty and was sentenced to 30 years in prison for her role in the crime.
But Arron fought on.
In court, he denied everything. He claimed he hadn’t killed Beverly Carter, only helped cover it up. He insisted Crystal acted alone. At one point, he even claimed the recording of Beverly’s voice was digitally faked, made using software he couldn’t name.
Crystal took the stand against him. The jury didn’t believe his lies.
Arron Lewis was convicted of capital murder and kidnapping in 2016. He was sentenced to life in prison without parole.
The Verdict: No More Lies
Arron Lewis’s explanations had grown increasingly absurd. When questioned about the duct tape mask found wrapped tightly around Beverly Carter’s face, he offered a final insult to the truth:
He claimed it was to protect her face from insects during burial.
The jury didn’t buy it.
In just four days of testimony, jurors reached their decision. The evidence—Beverly’s body, the taped recording, Crystal’s confession, and the mountain of lies—was overwhelming.
Arron Lewis was found guilty.
He received two consecutive life sentences without the possibility of parole.
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Crystal Lowry’s Appeal
Though her trial ended years earlier, Crystal Lowry resurfaced in 2020 with a request: early release.
From behind prison walls, she claimed to have found faith and remorse. She promised to serve her community if given a second chance. Her appeal painted her as rehabilitated, changed, and no longer a threat.
But the court saw it differently.
Crystal had played a key role in a premeditated murder. She had helped plan, had remained silent as a woman begged for her life, and ultimately encouraged the final act that ended it.
Her petition was denied.
Crystal continues to serve the 30-year sentence she received for her role in the crime.
A Family Forever Changed
Beverly Carter wasn’t just a headline. She was a mother, a wife, a grandmother. A woman who brought light to every room and security to every home she sold. She did everything right—followed her company’s rules, informed her husband of her plans, and took precautions.
Still, she never made it home.
Two people—driven by greed and desperation—saw her not as a human being, but as a transaction. A quick way out of debt. A target.
What they didn’t see was the community she held together, the family that loved her, and the legacy that would outlast them both.
Beverly Carter’s life was stolen.
But her voice—and the impact she made—will never be forgotten.
