By Chuck Strouse
By Scott Fishman
By Terrence McCoy
By Ryan Yousefi
By Ciara LaVelle, Kat Bein, Carolina Del Busto, and Liz Tracy
By Pepe Billete
By Ryan Yousefi
By Kyle Swenson
Homicide detectives, whose work on the case was documented in Season 4 of the documentary TV show The First 48, apprehended Bo two days later in Overtown. The dead couple's 10-year-old identified him. She had seen her parents mowed down from the living room window.
"I lost two of my closest friends over a stupid fight," Krow laments. "Out here, poverty, pride, and ego is a volatile mix."
Following his friends' funerals, Krow had no run-ins with the law for close to 15 months. He heard, though, about the events of April 29, 2007, when Miami Police officers responded to a call in the alley near the same building where Grace and Adrian had died. There the cops found an 18-year-old teenager named John Thomas lying face down and bleeding profusely. He had been shot 15 times with a high-caliber assault rifle. The shooter fired 12 of the bullets while standing over Thomas's body.
"They mutilated that boy," Krow recollects. "The cops turned him over and all his innards fell out. You can still see the craters the bullets made in the alley." Krow didn't know homicide detectives had zeroed in on him as a suspect. An eyewitness, Anthony Greer, told investigators the ski-masked shooter who had killed Thomas was Krow. Greer, who has an extensive criminal record, claimed he was hiding in some bushes when he saw Krow, who was toting an AK-47 type of weapon, pull off the mask.
Krow vehemently denied involvement. "Those cops didn't care who really committed the murder," he seethes. "They just wanted to find a suspect to pin it on and close the case."
Krow was arrested on a first-degree murder charge May 8, 2007. His bond was set at $50,000. He spent three and a half months in Dade County Jail. "While I was inside, I saw Bo," Krow says. "How ironic is that?"
When his parents came up with the $5,000 (the 10 percent needed to pay a bail bondsman), Krow was placed under house arrest. "It was a terrible time for all of us," his mom, Doris, says. "We went through hell for an entire year."
Prosecutors dropped the case after Krow passed a polygraph test. "My lawyer Matlocked those detectives in court," Krow says proudly. "I told them I didn't do it."
But 15th Avenue wasn't done with the Manleys. Around 10 p.m. on January 23 last year, Jimmy Jr. was drinking a beer in front of the three-story apartment complex where his brother usually reads the morning newspaper. Krow's little brother was a spectator in a small crowd of about 30 people watching a craps game.
Two unidentified men suddenly approached the scene and drew firearms. One of them was armed with an AK-47. He snarled, "Get on the ground!" While some of the bettors followed orders, others — including Jimmy — took off on foot. He ended up among nine people hit by machine gun fire. The 7.62mm rounds tore up his arms and the right side of his rear end. When the suffocating gunpowder cleared, Jimmy lay bleeding near the crumpled bodies of teenagers Derrick Gloster and Brandon Mills, both of whom were dead from bullets to their heads.
Police have still not identified a motive for the shootings, but Krow thinks it was revenge for a robbery.
Doris was in her living room when she heard the Fallujah-style attack. "I put on my sneakers and ran out there," she recollects. By then, the corner was swarming with Miami Police officers. She tried to get through the yellow tape, but a cop handcuffed her and put her in a squad car. "I didn't get to see my son until 4 o'clock in the morning," she says. "By then, he was already in the hospital."
According to Krow, his little brother is a lucky man. Six inches lower and the bullets that ripped through his arms would have hit him in the chest.
On the eve of the one-year anniversary of the 15th Avenue mass shooting, the moms of murder victims Derrick Gloster and Brandon Mills, their relatives, friends, and Miami homicide detectives convened outside Brewton's Market. They held a prayer vigil and lit candles for the victims. No arrests have been made even though there is a $50,000 reward. Brandon's mom, Lasonya Mills, made a tearful plea for someone to come forward with information. "People don't want to be called a snitch," Mills urged, "but they have to end that mentality."
Two days later, shortly before 11 p.m., 27-year-old O'Neil Gregory got into an argument with someone in front of the minimart at 1490 NW 71st St., across the street from Miracles. Shots rang out. Gregory jumped onto his bicycle and pedaled south. He collapsed at the intersection of 70th Street and 15th Avenue. He had been shot twice in the left bicep and once in the chest. Fire-rescue units pronounced him dead at the scene.
This past February 8, an unknown suspect with a chrome pistol shot 30-year-old Erick Johnson in front of Brewton's. The killer fled north on a purple bicycle that he ditched on the porch of 7104 NW 14th Pl. Witnesses saw the suspect take off in a turquoise Ford pickup truck. Johnson died in the Jackson Memorial Hospital emergency room. A month later came Corneisha Miller's murder.