For the families of victims killed in unsolved murders, life is at a standstill.
The Enquirer is highlighting a series of cold cases, summarized and analyzed by the journalists whose careers largely focus on unsolved murders: the creators of Cincinnati.com's Accused podcast. If you have any information on any unsolved case, please reach out to the appropriate law enforcement agency. Suggestions for cases to highlight can be sent to accused@enquirer.com.
The crime: Teshia McGhee worried something terrible might happen to her brother Broderick, but "terrible" never meant "violent." Violence had never crossed her mind.
"He loved motorcycles," said McGhee, 40. "I thought that'd be the death of him one day."
Instead, Hamilton resident Broderick McGhee died March 16, 2013, after someone fired a gun into the window of his custom-painting business while he reminisced about old times with his younger brother and a friend. Eight years later, the crime remains unsolved.
The family: Sometimes birthdays come in clusters. That was the case with the McGhee family, so in mid-March of 2013, Jackie McGhee – Broderick and Teshia's mother – had traveled with another daughter from Georgia to celebrate two important milestones: her own birthday, as well as the birthday of Broderick McGhee's youngest son. Their big days were March 13 and March 11, respectively.
The family was tight. Jackie was mother to seven children in all, and Teshia was so close with Broderick that he'd show up at her house at 3 a.m. just to sit and talk.
The crew had fun celebrating those birthdays. They'd shared hugs and drinks and gone roller skating, and Jackie was readying to head back home to Georgia after a happy visit. Nothing seemed amiss – until Teshia texted to ask about her brother's plans for the night and didn't get a response.
The shooting: It should've been an ordinary night, recalled Ken McGhee, who was with his older brother Broderick when he was shot. The two brothers and a friend had stopped by Broderick's business at 1133 Central Ave. in Hamilton.
"We were talking, drinking, having a good time," Ken said. "We were maybe 15 minutes from leaving when I heard these little pops that changed everything."
To Ken, the pop sounded as though something had been thrown through the business' front window. He and Broderick locked eyes, then heard another pop. This time they realized it was gunfire.
"We both took off running," said Ken, who bolted for the back of the store. Broderick didn't join him, but Ken didn't worry. He assumed Broderick had ducked for cover somewhere else. After the store went silent, Ken peeked around the corner and called for his brother.
"I see him laying there face down," he said. "I lost it. I knew it was serious."
In the 911 call he placed, Ken can be heard shouting, "Please, get up!" to no avail.
Three small-caliber bullets had been fired. Broderick was struck by two. One hit his aorta. He was dead before police arrived.
The victim: Thirty-five-year-old Broderick McGhee had four children, the youngest of whom had just celebrated his second birthday. Today, those kids range in age from 10 to 21.
Teshia said the family's never been the same since Broderick died.
"He was a mellow guy, no attitude, intelligent, handsome," his sister said. "Nobody saw this coming."
He'd been born in Alabama. When he was about 12, he moved to join his mother and siblings in Ohio.
When he was young, kids started calling him "Broadway" – Broderick, Broadway, get it? – which eventually was shortened to B-Way, a nickname that stuck to adulthood.
His passion was motorcycles, which he loved to custom paint in flashy, cool ways. Once, a nephew was so enamored with one of McGhee's paint jobs that the uncle painted the boy's bicycle to match it.
The investigation: When contacted by The Enquirer about her brother, Teshia McGhee said at first she was confused. No one had reached out to her in the eight years since he died, she said – not even the police.
She made it clear she was grateful. "Anything to help his case and bring it back to life, I'm all for it," she messaged.
When Broderick was killed, one newspaper reported that investigators believed the death had to do with drugs because he'd had drug-related convictions in his past, including a third-degree trafficking conviction.
Ken McGhee said he'd been convicted in relation to the same crime. Both went to prison for about five years, he said. When Broderick emerged, Ken said his brother straightened out his life.
"He was out of it. He cut all ties," Ken said. "It was over."
Teshia McGhee is confident her brother was targeted by whoever killed him – a random shooting just doesn't seem likely given the shop's location, she said – but added that she doubts it had anything to do with drugs.
"I bet you it was over something petty," she said.
Regardless, she wants answers. It's tough enough losing a loved one. It's extra torment to have no idea why.
Mid-March used to be about celebrating birthdays in the McGhee family, but since Broderick's slaying, they've instead gathered to mark the anniversary of his death.
"It's so hard for us," said Teshia McGhee, who recently left flowers on her brother's grave in honor of Father's Day.
Said Ken: "Cowards took away a brother, a father. He had changed his life."
Got tips? People with information about McGhee's slaying can visit the Ohio Attorney General's website or call the Hamilton Police Department at 513-868-5811.
Accused, reported by Enquirer journalists Amber Hunt and Amanda Rossmann, is an award-winning podcast investigating cold cases with three seasons available on all mainstream platforms such as Apple Podcasts and also at www.accusedpodcast.com.
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