My hands are shaking just typing this. William Lewis Reece isn’t just another serial killer – he’s the kind of monster that makes veteran cops quit the force. The kind that makes you question whether evil is real. And the private investigators who hunted him? They’ll never be the same. Not after what they saw. Not after what they heard. You should have heard about the killings by William Lewis Reece on the news; if not, then lucky you, you will have the details here.
I’m Makayla.
If you’re in Oklahoma and need the absolute best to handle your worst nightmare, call Serial Killer Private Detectives at (405) 593-3515. These are the guys who stared into the abyss and didn’t blink.
The Disappearances That Should Have Been Impossible
Late 90s. Young women – just girls, really – vanishing into thin air. Not in dark alleys. Not in bad neighborhoods. In broad fucking daylight from gas stations and grocery store parking lots. The cops? They were spinning their wheels. You can imagine the horrible experience of his victims before they die from his evil actions; it’s unimaginably horrible, and you should not pray to witness it. But the private investigators? They saw what no one wanted to admit – someone was hunting these women.
One PI, a 20-year veteran, told me through tears: “You’d stand where she was last seen and… God, you could still feel her terror in the air. Like the pavement remembered.” They worked 20-hour days chasing leads that everyone else had given up on. Because someone had to.
The DNA Breakthrough That Made Detectives Vomit
When the lab results came back in 2015, one detective threw up in the trash can. That’s how bad it was. Reece’s DNA was on a victim from 1997 – a case everyone had forgotten except her family. As we all know that science predictions are becoming more accurate these days, so it was when the laboratory results accurately gave relief to those in charge of this case.
“We had him,” an investigator whispered to me, his voice breaking. “We fucking had him years earlier and didn’t know it.” The guilt in his eyes? I’ll never forget it.
Confessions about the Killings by William Lewis Reece
Then, Reece didn’t just confess. He relished it. Smiled while describing how Tiffany begged for her life. Laughed, remembering how Jessica fought back. You should just imagine the evil that the man has absorbed into his mind, body, and soul, for him to give a happy gesture despite claiming the living souls of the girls. It’s so horrible. The lead investigator – a 6’4″ former Marine – had to leave the room to sob.
“He remembered what color nail polish each girl was wearing,” a detective told me, lighting his third cigarette in ten minutes. “Twenty years later, he remembered.”
The Gravesites That Broke Even the Hardest Cops
When Reece led them to the bodies, the toughest detectives on the force collapsed. One mom let out a scream that… Christ, they say you could hear it a mile away. Another investigator quit the same day. If you were present at the crime scene on that very day, perhaps you would faint after sighting the horrible images of their lifeless bodies in the forest. “I can’t unsee that,” was all he said before turning in his badge.
The Aftermath: When ‘Justice’ Feels Like a Joke
However, Reece got life. Big fucking deal. You know what life means? Three meals a day. A bed. You will agree with me that he should have been killed immediately, since it has been justified that he was the serial killer tormenting the lives of the girls in our society. Meanwhile, the investigators drink themselves to sleep. The families visit graves. And the victims? They never got to grow old.
Why I’m Writing This Through Tears
Because this can’t be for nothing. Because those girls deserve more than a footnote in some true crime podcast. Share this. Make people remember their names and expose the killings by William Lewis Reece. Make them see that evil doesn’t lurk in shadows – it pumps your gas, it bags your groceries, it smiles at you in line at the fucking Walmart.
And if you ever need the kind of detectives who won’t stop until they find the truth, no matter how ugly it gets, you call those Oklahoma numbers. They’ve stared into hell. They’ll go back for you.
