That it didn’t mean anything, but it did mean something, Zoe said quietly, opening her eyes.

“It meant a lot.

It ruined my life.

” Blake walked over to the crib and looked at the sleeping child.

A strange expression appeared on his face, something between tenderness and fear.

He looks like me, he said quietly.

I see myself in him.

Don’t say that, Zoe turned away toward the wall.

Just don’t say it.

Blake returned to the bed and sat down on a chair nearby.

Zoe, listen.

I know everything is terrible right now.

I know you’re suffering, but I want to help.

I’m ready to take responsibility.

I’m ready to be a father to this child.

A real father.

We can try to build something together for his sake.

Zoe slowly turned and looked at Blake.

There was sincerity in his eyes, but it didn’t matter.

You don’t understand, she said wearily.

I love Harvey.

I’ve always loved only him.

What happened between us was a mistake.

The biggest mistake of my life.

I don’t want to build anything with you.

I want my life back.

But I can’t.

I destroyed it with my own hands.

Where’s Harvey now? Blake asked.

I haven’t seen him since the night his mother came to me.

Did he come to see you? He did? Zoe touched the bruise on her cheek.

Yesterday he brought his parents.

They saw the baby.

They saw that he was light-skinned and everything everything fell apart.

What did he say? That I ruined him.

That he hates me.

His mother beat me.

She screamed that because of me he would start drinking again and then they left and I don’t know where he is now.

Blake shook his head.

“I’m so sorry, Zoe.

I really am.

Your pity won’t help me,” she said sharply.

“Nothing will help.

It’s over.

” Blake stood up, standing awkwardly.

If you change your mind, if you need help, I’ll be here.

With money, with a place to stay, with anything, you know where to find me.

Go away, Zoe whispered.

Please, just go away.

Blake nodded and left the room.

Zoe remained lying down, staring at the ceiling.

Fiona sat on her bed, feeding her daughter, and looked at her neighbor with concern.

Is that him? The baby’s father? Yes, he wants to help.

He can’t help.

Zoe turned to face the wall.

No one can.

Everything is ruined.

Fiona got up and walked over to Zoe’s bed.

She put her hand on her neighbor’s shoulder.

“Listen to me,” she said firmly.

“I know it feels like your life is over right now, that everything is lost, but you have a son, a little boy who needs you.

You can’t give up.

Do you understand? You have to be strong for him.

“I’m so tired,” Zoe whispered, her voice breaking.

“I’m so tired of all this.

I don’t know how to go on.

” “Nobody does.

” Fiona squeezed her shoulder.

“We just live day by day.

That’s all we can do.

” Zoe didn’t answer.

She lay facing the wall and felt something slowly dying inside her.

hope perhaps or the will to live.

She didn’t know for sure.

She only knew that nothing good lay ahead, that the worst was yet to come, and that she wasn’t ready to face it.

Her son was sleeping peacefully in the crib next to her, unaware that in a day his mother would be dead, that his biological father would also be killed, that he would be left alone in this cruel world.

He was just sleeping, so small, so defenseless, and no one could save him from what was about to happen.

The evening of November 23rd was cold and dark.

Zoe was still in the maternity ward at St Vincent’s Hospital.

The doctors wanted to observe her for another day before discharging her.

After the beating incident, they were concerned about her condition.

Zoe lay on the bed by the window, staring into the darkness beyond the glass.

It was around 8:00 in the evening.

Fiona sat on her bed feeding her daughter, quietly singing a lullaby to her.

The room was warm, quiet, almost cozy.

But Zoe didn’t feel cozy.

She felt nothing but emptiness.

She had spent the whole day in a kind of stouper.

The nurses came, checked her vitals, brought food, but Zoe hardly reacted.

She mechanically fed her son when he cried.

Mechanically answered the doctor’s questions, but inside there was only emptiness.

Harvey didn’t come.

He didn’t call.

Nothing.

And Zoe knew he wouldn’t come.

He would never come again.

The door to the room suddenly flew open with a bang, hitting the wall.

Harvey was standing in the doorway.

He looked terrible.

His clothes were dirty and wrinkled, his shirt unbuttoned.

His eyes were red, his face swollen.

He staggered, holding on to the door frame.

The smell of alcohol was so strong that Fiona could smell it even from her bed.

“Harvey,” Zoe whispered, her heart sinking with horror.

He didn’t answer.

He just stood there and looked at her.

There was something frightening in his eyes, a mixture of pain, rage, and madness.

This was not the Harvey she knew.

This was the man she had only seen in photographs four years ago.

The man who drowned his sorrows in alcohol.

Harvey, please.

Zoe tried to get up, but her body wouldn’t obey her.

Please, let’s talk.

Harvey stepped into the ward and the door slammed behind him.

Fiona held her daughter close to her chest and froze, not daring to move.

Something was very wrong.

Something terrible was about to happen.

Two days, Harvey said, his voice and drunk.

Two days I couldn’t sleep.

I couldn’t eat.

I couldn’t breathe.

You know what I did, Zoe? I drank.

For the first time in 4 years, I bought a bottle.

Then another, then another.

And you know what I thought about while I was drinking? Zoe was silent, staring at him with wide eyes.

I thought about the day I was 23, Harvey continued, taking a step closer.

When the doctor told me I was infertile, that I had no chance of having children.

Do you know how I felt at that moment? I felt like I was no longer a man, that I was incomplete, that I would never be able to give a woman a child.

And I started drinking.

I drank to forget.

I drank so I wouldn’t feel the pain.

He laughed, a hollow, broken laugh.

And then you came along, Zoe, my savior.

You helped me quit drinking.

You loved me no matter what.

And when you told me you were pregnant, I believed in miracles.

I thought the doctors were wrong, that I was fine, that I was normal.

For 9 months, I was the happiest man alive.

For 9 months, I believed.

His voice broke and tears streamed down his cheeks.

And then I saw him, that child, light-skinned, and everything fell apart.

Everything, Zoe.

The doctors were right.

I’m infertile.

And you? You slept with another man, a white man, and you let me believe a lie.

I’m sorry, Zoe whispered, tears streaming down her face.

I’m sorry, Harvey.

I’m so sorry.

You have no idea how sorry I am.

Sorry? Harvey stepped closer.

You’re sorry? Does that make me feel any better? Does it make my mother feel any better? She’s been crying for 2 days.

two days of saying you destroyed me.

And you know what? She’s right.

You destroyed me, Zoe.

Completely and irrevocably.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a gun, an old revolver that had once belonged to his father.

Fiona screamed and recoiled against the wall, shielding her daughter with her body.

Zoe froze, staring at the weapon.

“Harvey, no!” she whispered.

“Please, no! I loved you, Harvey said, his voice trembling more than anything in the world.

You were my light, my hope, and now I look at you and see only lies, only betrayal.

Harvey, think about the child.

Zoe reached out to the cradle where her son was sleeping.

He’s not to blame for anything.

He’s just a baby.

He’s not my child, Harvey hissed.

He’s your lover’s bastard, and I don’t want him in this world reminding me of what you’ve done.

He raised the gun and pointed it at Zoey.

His hand was shaking.

His face was wet with tears.

“Harvey, please,” Zoe cried, reaching out to him.

“I love you.

I’ve always loved only you.

It was a mistake.

One terrible mistake.

Don’t do this.

Please don’t.

It’s too late.

” Harvey whispered.

“It’s too late, Zoe.

” The shot rang out deafeningly loud in the cramped ward.

Zoe flinched, her eyes wide open.

Then she slowly looked down at the red stain spreading across her hospital gown on her chest, right in her heart.

Fiona screamed loud, piercing.

Her scream echoed down the hallway.

Zoe slowly leaned back against the pillows, her arms falling limply.

Her breathing became ragged, wheezy.

She looked at Harvey, and there was no hatred in her eyes, only sadness.

Boundless sadness.

I’m sorry,” she whispered, and those were her last words.

Harvey stood holding the gun, looking at his wife, at the blood flowing from her wound, at her face, which was growing paler by the second, and something inside him broke completely, something that would never heal.

He turned and left the room.

Fiona was still screaming, holding her daughter close.

A red alarm light flashed in the hallway and a siren wailed.

Nurses and doctors rushed to the room.

Harvey walked past them like a ghost, not looking at anyone.

Janice Coleman was the first to rush into the room.

She saw Zoe on the bed, saw the blood, and her heart stopped.

She rushed to the bed and began checking her pulse and breathing.

“Rachel, call resuscitation immediately!” she shouted.

Rachel ran to the phone.

Two more doctors rushed into the room and began trying to stop the bleeding and perform CPR, but the blood was flowing too fast.

The bullet had hit her right in the heart.

There was no chance.

Zoe Pennington died at 8:23 pm on November 23rd, 2024.

She was 27 years old.

Harvey was already getting into his car in the hospital parking lot.

His hands were shaking as he put the key in the ignition.

The gun was on the passenger seat.

He started the car and drove across town to Blake Dalton’s house.

The drive took 20 minutes.

Harvey drove slowly, carefully, obeying all the rules.

It was strange to think about traffic rules after what he had just done after killing his wife.

But his brain was working strangely, automatically, as if it wasn’t him behind the wheel, but someone else.

He parked near Blake’s house.

The lights were on in the windows.

Blake was home.

Harvey took the gun and got out of the car.

He walked up to the porch.

He climbed the steps.

He knocked on the door.

A few seconds later, the door opened.

Blake stood in the doorway wearing slippers and an old t-shirt.

When he saw Harvey, his face turned pale.

“Harvey,” he began, taking a step back.

“Listen, I you knew,” Harvey said quietly.

his voice devoid of emotion, only emptiness.

You knew I was infertile.

All the neighbors knew.

My mother told everyone when I started drinking.

And you slept with my wife anyway.

You knew she would get pregnant.

You knew it would destroy me.

I didn’t know.

Blake raised his hands.

I swear I didn’t think it would turn out this way.

It just happened.

We were both lonely.

We Shut up.

Harvey interrupted.

Just shut up.

He raised the gun and fired once in the chest.

Blake staggered, grabbed the door frame, then slowly sank to the floor.

His eyes were wide open, filled with shock and incomprehension.

I know everything,” Harvey said, looking at the dying man.

“And now you’ve paid for what you did.

” He turned and walked back to his car.

Blake Dalton died on his doorstep 2 minutes later.

He was 34 years old.

Harvey got into his car and drove away.

He didn’t know where.

Harvey arrived at his parents’ house around midnight.

He parked by the porch but didn’t get out of the car.

He just sat there and looked at the lit windows.

His mother was awake.

She never slept when she was worried about her son.

Harvey knew that if he went in now, she would rush to him, hug him, cry, and he couldn’t bear that.

Not now.

Harvey put the gun on the seat and leaned back.

He closed his eyes.

And for the first time in 4 years, he didn’t want to drink.

Alcohol no longer helped.

Nothing helped.

Nothing could drown out the pain that was tearing him apart inside.

He woke up to a knock on the window.

It was morning.

It was light out.

Two police officers were standing next to the car.

Harvey slowly rolled down the window.

Are you Harvey Pennington? One of them asked.

Yes.

Get out of the car slowly.

Keep your hands where we can see them.

Harvey got out.

The police officers saw the gun on the seat and the blood on his hands.

One of them grabbed his arms, twisted them behind his back, and handcuffed him.

The cold steel dug into his wrists.

Harvey didn’t resist.

Harvey Pennington, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Zoe Pennington and Blake Dalton.

You have the right to remain silent.

Harvey wasn’t listening.

They took him to the police car and put him in the back seat.

The trial took place 6 months later.

Harvey pleaded guilty.

There was no point in denying it.

Too many witnesses, too much evidence.

Fiona Wilmington testified crying.

The nurses testified.

Blake’s neighbors testified.

It all came together in one terrible picture.

A picture of a man driven mad by his wife’s betrayal.

The jury reached a verdict quickly.

Guilty on two counts of first-degree murder, life imprisonment without the possibility of parole.

Clara and Jack Pennington sat in the courtroom.

They had aged over the past 6 months.

Clara had lost weight.

Her hair had turned completely gray.

Jack slumped as if the weight of everything that had happened was pressing down on his shoulders.

When the judge read out the sentence, Clara covered her face with her hands and burst into tears.

Jack hugged her and tears ran down his cheeks, too.

They had lost their daughter-in-law.

They had lost their son, not physically, but they had lost the person he used to be.

Harvey, who was leaving the courtroom in handcuffs, was a stranger.

There was nothing in his eyes.

No remorse, no grief, no hope, only emptiness.

On the other side of town, in a baby shelter, a boy with no name was growing up.

More precisely, he had the name given to him at the hospital, just a name written in the documents.

No one came to take him away.

Clara and Jack couldn’t.

Every time they looked at the child’s fair skin, they saw the destruction of their family.

Blake had no relatives.

He was alone.

Zoe had no relatives either.

Her mother had died long ago, and she didn’t know her father.

Social services looked for a foster family.

They searched for a long time, but it was difficult to find a family for a fairkinned child with such a history.

Too much baggage, too much pain.

The boy remained in the orphanage.

He grew up without knowing who his parents were, without knowing what tragedy had brought him into this world, without knowing that his birth was the beginning of the end for three people.

His mother, his biological father, and the man who was supposed to be his father.

Human remains have just been found in the search for a pregnant mother of two abducted from her home on Tuesday.

Those remains were found near an area crews were searching for 27-year-old Andrea Lloyd.

The medical examiner has not positively identified them as those of Lloyd, but arrived at the search scene earlier this evening.

Authorities have detained an ex-boyfriend, but did not reveal his name.

Lloyd is expecting her third child.

Anyone with any information in the case is asked to is asked to call Miami date police.

>> Two days before Andrea Lloyd disappeared, she shared something on her Facebook page.

The people who saw it scrolled past it.

Nobody called to check in.

But when you read what she shared, you will understand exactly what she was trying to say, but no one caught it in time.

Before we get into it, leave a like, drop your thoughts in the comments, and subscribe to Crime on Pulse so you won’t miss the next case.

Andrea Ollet Lloyd was born on December 13th, 1993 in Miami, Florida.

She grew up in Miami Dade County, Laura Sanders Elementary, Campbell Drive Middle School, Homestead Senior High School, and eventually earned her diploma at Maverick’s High School.

She was driven.

She started her working life in retail, but that was never going to hold her.

She found her real calling in caregiving, taking care of people who needed consistent, genuine support.

She joined Sunrise Community and within 3 years, she had worked her way up from caregiver to residential program director, overseeing the care of adults.

Outside of work, Andrea was a mother of two boys, a 1-year-old and 5-year-old.

Her family described her world simply.

She worked and she took care of her kids.

That was it and that was everything to her.

She was deeply connected to her family.

Her parents Arnold and Alfreda Lloyd and a wide circle of people who loved her.

Xavier was 32 years old and he had been in Andrea’s life for 11 years, not months or a couple of years.

That is more than a third of her entire life.

They had two children together, built a shared life, vacations, family events, and everyday moments.

They traveled together, did ordinary couple things, nail salons, outings, family gatherings.

Oh.

Read it.

I don’t even know what the top say.

>> Can you read it out loud, please? >> No, I ain’t going to read it out loud.

>> Oh, I scored it.

Where the money at? That already came prepacked.

They wanted, you know.

>> So, you didn’t do this? >> No, I ordered it.

>> Okay.

I open I open >> psych.

>> Psych.

I want to open taste.

>> Open taste.

>> Can you go Bad boy.

Bad boy.

>> Can I see the box? I should have >> I should have put on my clothes.

Maybe.

Maybe a By every visible measure, Xavier was not just her boyfriend, he was her partner in everything.

At some point during their relationship, they did a maternity shoot.

Beautiful black and white photos.

Xavier with his hand on her pregnant belly.

Both of them in white, holding hands, laughing in an open field.

The kind of photos that are supposed to mark the beginning of something beautiful.

Everyone around them saw a happy couple.

Andrea’s family said they had never seen them argue.

Not at gatherings, at family functions, not in any setting they were present for.

Her nephew said their relationship seemed perfect.

When they came around, they were always happy.

But at some point, the relationship that looked so solid on the outside had become something else entirely.

Xavier had become controlling and dominating.

He had been unfaithful to Andrea repeatedly.

And Andrea, who had given this man 11 years, two children, and her full commitment, had reached the point where she was done.

Her aunt described her as someone who had given that relationship everything a marriage would require.

She was, in her words, like a wife, not just a girlfriend.

She had carried this relationship with everything she had and was tired.

She had made up her mind and was planning to leave.

2 days before everything changed, Andrea went on Facebook and shared a post.

not something she wrote herself, a post she came across that clearly spoke to exactly where she was.

It read, “Narcissistic manipulators.

” Let’s get into it.

People who intentionally or unintentionally attack you and hurt you.

Then once they hurt you and you react, they are upset at how you reacted to the intentional or unintentional hurt they did to you.

They try to turn it on you to add more hurtful things to make it seem like you’re the problem or at fault for how they did you when in fact you did absolutely nothing to them to cause their reason for the intentional or unintentional hurt or attack.

Not once will they think to apologize because remember once you reacted to what they did to you, you then became the problem and now they are the victim.

They hold zero accountability.

They see no wrong in what they did only in how you reacted.

These will be the same people who say they love and care for you.

Feel free to correct me where I am wrong.

And good morning.

December 8th, 2021, just after midnight, Andrea was at work.

She was the overnight supervisor at a South Miami Dade group home, the same kind of facility she had dedicated her career to.

She was doing her job.

She showed up to every shift, caring for adults who depended on her.

A knock came at the door.

She opened it.

She knew the person on the other side.

It was Xavier.

The surveillance camera at the facility captured what happened next.

Xavier did not come to talk.

He attacked Andrea at her workplace, forced her out of the building, pushed her into her own vehicle, a white Honda Civic, and drove away with her.

The camera caught all of it.

When Andrea did not come home and made no contact with her family, the alarm spread immediately.

For someone whose whole life revolved around her children and the people depending on her, silence was not something that happened without reason.

Now to a developing story out of Southwest Miami Dade, where police say a woman is still missing after being abducted from her job this morning.

27year-old Andrea Lloyd works as a caretaker at a home.

That’s where she was when we’re told she opened the door to a man who beat her and dragged her into his car against her will.

Here’s CBS4’s Joel Waldman with more details.

>> In news, unfortunately, we covered too many of these stories, but I can’t remember a time in recent memory when so many family members showed up in such a short amount of time, desperate for Andrea to come back home safely.

>> It’s hard.

It’s hard because, you know, I mean, she’s the type of person she she always she always calls her dad because she we got so much love in the family.

>> Comforted by all that love, Patriarch Arnold Lloyd, a modest family man, told us he only wants one thing this holiday season.

>> Everybody know me, I don’t beg for nothing, but I’m begging for my daughter to come home.

I don’t beg for nothing.

I don’t beg for nothing, but I’m begging for my daughter to come home.

The baby of his 12 children, Andrea Lloyd, never returned home from her job as a caretaker at this South Miami Dade group home where the 27year-old worked as a supervisor.

>> For her not to not to have contacted any of us, something is wrong.

>> Miami date police confirming something did in fact go drastically wrong overnight.

They say surveillance video revealed a disturbing scene after a man showed up at Andrea’s job just after midnight.

>> This male proceeded to batter her and eventually during the altercation pushed her inside of a vehicle and drove off in an unknown direction.

>> Police say she was dragged and forced into a white Honda Civic with Florida tag Y650DL.

Andrea’s family tells us they have a hunch who her attacker is, but were asked by police to keep it to themselves for now.

>> Andrea is not the type person that would leave with a stranger.

And the information and the evidence that the detectives shared with us indicates that she was very familiar with the person that abducted her.

>> The mother of two young boys herself, Andrea’s family says she would never leave them alone.

>> She works, she takes care of her kids.

She works, she takes care of her kids.

That’s her life.

>> She’s an angel.

She’s an angel.

I mean, she’s a real angel.

>> Anyone with any information is asked to call Miami Day Crimes Stoppers at 305471 TIPS.

There is a reward for anyone with information that leads to an arrest.

Reporting in Florida City, Joel Walman, CBS4 News.

>> Her father knew right away.

Her family had a strong feeling about who was responsible.

Police asked them to keep the name to themselves while the investigation moved forward, but they already knew.

And investigators later confirmed that the person who took Andrea was someone she knew very well.

Someone she had every reason to open the door for.

Miami Dade police launched a full search operation.

Aviation units, all-terrain vehicles, K-9 teams, everything they had was deployed.

The white Honda Civic and its Florida tag were named in public alerts.

The community was asked to come forward with information and a reward was put on the table.

Andrea’s family did not sit and wait.

They went looking for her themselves.

Family members, including Andrea’s uncle, were out covering ground when they spotted Xavier Johnson in a heavily wooded area near the Homestead Speedway.

So, they called the police immediately.

Officers responded and Xavier was detained on the spot.

The K-9 unit moved in.

The cadaavver dog worked through that wooded area and alerted Xavier’s black pickup truck.

Close to that truck was a large metal utility box, the kind typically used for storage in the bed of a pickup.

What investigators found inside confirmed everything Andrea’s family had feared from the moment she did not come home.

Andrea Lloyd was gone.

She was reportedly just weeks pregnant with her third child.

Her two boys, 1-year-old and 5 years old, were now without their mother.

She was 5 days away from her 28th birthday.

Her father had stood before cameras while she was still missing and said something that stayed with everyone who heard it.

>> It’s hard.

It’s hard because, you know, she’s the type of person she she always she always calls her dad because she we got so much love in the family.

Everybody know me.

I don’t beg for nothing, but I’m begging for my daughter to come home.

I don’t beg for nothing.

I don’t beg for nothing, but I’m begging for my daughter to come home.

I feel good, but you know that still won’t bring back my daughter.

You know, I still want to bring back my daughter cuz she was going to leave him.

She was tired of him messing around on her and she was like a, you know, a wife, not a girlfriend.

If I knew anything was wrong, she wouldn’t have been there cuz I could have put in the house myself.

>> Her uncle spoke about what it meant to lose someone this way.

He said, “It hurts knowing that you loved someone like family, treated them like your own, and that same person brought this kind of pain into your home.

It hurts me for the fact that sometime you have loved ones that’s so close to you [ __ ] to get you involved in certain things when it come to them.

>> Her godmother could not stop thinking about the children.

Those two little boys who were now going to grow up without the woman who was the center of their entire world.

Xavier Johnson was taken to Miami Dade Police Department headquarters for questioning and he confessed.

He admitted to holding Andrea Lloyd against her will and hurting her.

Miami Dade Police Director Alfredo Ramirez publicly confirmed the charges against Xavier Johnson and addressed the community directly.

Right now at noon, authorities arresting a man who they say confessed to kidnapping and killing his pregnant girlfriend.

We were there as 32-year-old Xavier Johnson was walked into jail shortly after midnight.

Police say Andrea Lloyd was abducted as she was working at a Southwest Miami Dade group home >> and human remains were found sadly on Wednesday, but they have yet to be identified.

Johnson now facing a judge and local 10’s Anelise Garcia is live in Derell with more on this one for us.

Anelise.

>> Yeah, Janice Christie.

Today Johnson did appear in front of a judge and that judge did find probable cause and now he’s being held no bond.

>> The medical examiner confirmed the identity of the remains found near Homestead.

It was Andrea.

Xavier Johnson was charged with first-degree homicide, kidnapping, and burglary with assault.

Xavier appeared before Circuit Judge Mindy Glazer.

The judge found probable cause on all three counts.

She noted that this was the kind of case that could potentially be pursued as a capital penalty case.

>> Mr.

Johnson, good morning.

>> 33-year-old Xavier Johnson stood before a judge Thursday morning.

The judge addressed the disturbing allegations against him.

>> Morning, sir.

You were arrested for one count of first-degree murder, one count of kidnapping, and one count of armed burglary with an assault or battery.

>> Johnson, arrested in connection to the disappearance of 27year-old Andrea Lloyd, spoke in court about possibly acquiring a private attorney.

>> Do you have an attorney? >> Yes.

>> Who’s your >> I don’t have one yet, but I’m I’m going to get one.

>> He asked that you own the property owner what jet skis and what else? >> Uh the value of my jet skis is um 16,000.

Family tells us Johnson was the boyfriend of Lloyd and father of her two children.

When the question of legal representation came up, Xavier brought up the value of his jet skis, reportedly around $16,000.

>> We asked that you own the property owner what jet skis and what else? >> Uh the val the value of my jet skis is um 16,000.

>> When discussing whether he could afford a private attorney, the judge assigned him a public defender.

Xavier was ordered held without bond and booked into Turner Guilford Knight Correctional Center.

Now, the question that everyone was asking is this.

Why? Police never officially released a motive, but Andrea’s father, Arnold Lloyd, shared what he believed drove Xavier to do what he did.

>> Cuz she was going to leave him.

She was tired of him messing around on her, and she was like a, you know, a wife, not a girlfriend.

If I knew anything wrong, she wouldn’t have been there cuz I could have put in the house myself.

Andrea had been planning to leave Xavier.

She was exhausted by his repeated unfaithfulness, had made her decision that the relationship was over and was moving on.

And there was one more piece to it.

The child Andrea was reportedly carrying, Arnold Lloyd believed that the baby was not Xavier’s.

That combined with her decision to walk away is what her father believed set off everything.

That is not a finding from investigators.

No official motive was ever confirmed, but it is the assessment of a man who knew his daughter, knew the relationship, and was left standing in the wreckage trying to understand the unimaginable.

The two boys were placed in the care of their grandfather, Arnold Lloyd.

He appeared before a judge to take custody, exhausted and griefstricken, but steady, doing what needed to be done for those children.

There is no way to fully describe what that requires of a person.

He had just lost his daughter and now had to hold himself together for her children.

One week after Andrea’s passing, her community gathered for a celebration of her life.

People who had known Drea, worked with her, grew up with her, loved her, came together to honor who she was beyond the headlines.

Whoever, how many ever did this to my daughter? Just suffer.

>> Just suffer >> and never see the light.

>> An emotional night for the loved ones of Andrea Lloyd.

The mother who police say was abducted and killed last week.

Today would have been Andrea’s 28th birthday.

And her family wanted to use this opportunity to celebrate her life and honor her memory.

Meanwhile, her boyfriend and the father of her children remains in jail tonight accused of a murder.

That’s where CBS4’s Joel Waldman joins us from with more details.

Joel.

Elliot and Carly.

That is correct.

The man accused of killing Andre Lloyd sits in a jail cell here at TGK.

He is being held on no bond.

Uh this is Andrea’s family celebrated her birthday today, one week after her murder.

God will allow his blessings to be over us.

>> Prayers instead of wishes for Andrea Lloyd and her family on her 28th birthday.

A sea of pink balloons released into the bright blue sky.

>> And all y’all know that we are a loving family.

>> And that was my baby.

>> Yes.

>> That was my heart.

>> Andrea’s father’s heart now forever broken.

and the youngest of his 12 children found in this swampy area of Homestead.

Now, less than one week after the gruesome discovery, a celebration of life.

>> Her first wish would have been bringing our family together like we always do.

>> Andrea wants us to smile right now.

>> Hard to do whenever a young person’s life is cut so short, but especially difficult knowing the way Andrea died.

Police say Xavier Johnson, her boyfriend of 11 years, beat her up and dragged her into his car at the group home where she worked.

ultimately murdering her.

Johnson is the father of Andrea’s two children as well as the one she was pregnant with, leaving family members asking why.

>> My my thing was, why do you have to do this? You could have just walked away.

>> That fatal decision leading to a barrage of other questions from Andrea’s 5-year-old son.

>> 5-year-old is asking, “Where’s mommy? Where’s mommy? Where’s mommy?” >> An answer they say they’ve shared too difficult for most adults to process, let alone young children.

her uncle just grateful they’re all part of such a big loving family.

>> We always get together for anything that the family needed.

We be there.

Brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, and all >> and they were in fact all there.

Now, the attorney for Xavier Johnson, he released a statement to us saying that Mr.

Johnson and his family have been recipients of numerous threats since he was identified as a suspect in Miss Lloyd’s case, and we ask that before the public makes a rush to judgment against Mr.

Johnson and presume him guilty, that it allow all the facts of the case to come to light.

Meanwhile, the funeral for Andrea Lloyd will be held this Saturday with details to come.

Reporting live from Northwest Miami Day, Joel Walman, CBS4 News.

Her funeral was held that Saturday.

On what would have been Andrea’s 28th birthday, her family and friends gathered near the area where she was found.

They released pink balloons, stood in that place, and chose to fill it with something that looked like her.

Bright, full of color going up.

Tonight, we’re learning more about tomorrow’s funeral service for Andrea Lloyd.

Her services begin tomorrow at 2:00 pm at the Covenant Baptist Church in Florida City.

Police say the 27-year-old, who was 6 weeks pregnant, was found dead on December 8th in Homestead after her boyfriend, 32-year-old Xavier Johnson, confessed to abducting and killing her.

He’s facing first-degree murder charges.

Years after that, December, Andrea’s mother, Alfreda, took to Facebook during DV awareness month and wrote that she had almost not survived her own first marriage and that surviving had become her badge of honor.

She then said that her daughter, Andrea Lloyd, was a victim of intimate partner violence.

She urged anyone in that situation to plan in secret, to tell their family, and to understand that love does not hurt, that love is patient and kind and does not envy or boast.

She wrote that her life would never be the same because of one selfish and evil act that took the life of her baby girl.

And she asked people to share the post with purple hearts in tribute to Andrea.

That was not just a grieving mother posting about her pain.

That was a woman trying to make sure her daughter’s story meant something going forward, that someone else somewhere would read those words and make a different decision.

On what would have been Andrea’s 31st birthday, her mother posted again.

She wrote, “Today, I’m supposed to wake up singing and screaming happy birthday to you, Andrea Lloyd.

Instead, my heart is broken because you are not here to celebrate year 31.

No matter what, December 13th will forever be Drea Day.

Happy birthday, baby girl.

I miss you.

Three years later, and that grief had not moved.

December 13th will be Drea Day every year.

The world keeps spinning and so does crime.

Stay observant, listen to your instincts, and don’t ignore the warning signs.

I’ll see you in the next case on Crime on Pulse.

Thanks for watching.

 

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