The Keddie Cabin Murders: A Small-Town Nightmare That Refuses to Fade

Inside Cabin 28, a nightmare waited to be found—one that would turn the town’s name into a byword for small-town terror.

The Discovery

Fourteen-year-old Sheila Sharp had spent the night at a friend’s house. When she walked through her family’s front door just after sunrise, she expected to find her mother in the kitchen, maybe her younger brothers watching cartoons.

Instead, she froze.

On the living room floor lay her mother, Glenna “Sue” Sharp, bound with medical tape and electrical cords. Nearby were the bodies of her 15-year-old brother John and his 17-year-old friend Dana Wingate. All three had been bludgeoned and stabbed with such force that blood had sprayed the walls and ceiling. The furniture was overturned, the air thick with copper and silence.

The most chilling detail? Just down the hall, Sheila’s younger brothers Ricky (10) and Greg (5), along with their friend Justin Smartt (12), were found unharmed—claiming to have slept through the slaughter. But Sue’s 12-year-old daughter, Tina Sharp, was missing.

The Investigation Begins

The Plumas County Sheriff’s Office arrived quickly, but their handling of the case would later draw heavy criticism. The scene was not properly sealed; neighbors and even strangers wandered inside. Evidence that might have led to the killers was likely lost forever.

Witness statements trickled in. Some residents claimed they had seen suspicious men near the cabin in the days before. Others said they’d heard muffled screams in the night but dismissed them.

Now it was more than a triple homicide—it was also a missing child case.

The Prime Suspects

Within days, suspicion fell on two men: Martin Smartt and his friend John “Bo” Boubede.

Martin was the stepfather of Justin Smartt, one of the untouched boys in the cabin. His marriage was unraveling, and he reportedly resented Sue, believing she had encouraged his wife to leave him.

The pair’s stories to police were inconsistent. Martin admitted to burning a pair of bloody clothes right after the murders, claiming it was “animal blood.” Justin allegedly told investigators he’d dreamt—or perhaps witnessed—two men attacking Sue, one with long hair and one with short hair. The description fit Martin and Bo.

But despite the circumstantial evidence, neither man was arrested.

The Missing Girl

For three years, the fate of Tina Sharp remained a painful mystery—until a man searching for bottles in the woods of Butte County, nearly 30 miles away, stumbled on a human skull.

Dental records confirmed it was Tina. Near her remains were a child’s blanket, a blue jacket, and a pair of pants. The cause of death was undetermined, but foul play was undeniable.

Her discovery reawakened the case, but without modern forensic tools, the investigation stalled once more.

The Silence of Keddie

Over time, Cabin 28 became a decaying shell, its windows boarded, its wood splintering under mountain snow and sun. Local kids dared each other to step inside, claiming it was haunted by the Sharp family.

For Sheila, the memory never left. She often spoke of the frustration of seeing suspects walk free while her family’s murder remained unsolved.

Decades Later—New Clues

In 2016, Plumas County Sheriff Greg Hagwood revealed that new evidence had been found. Among it was a hammer discovered in a nearby pond—matching the description of one missing from Martin Smartt’s home in 1981.

Investigators also unearthed a letter Martin had allegedly written to his wife shortly after the murders, admitting he’d killed Sue because she was “ruining his marriage.” Even so, prosecutors claimed the case lacked enough evidence for trial.

Sheriff Hagwood has publicly stated his belief that multiple people were involved and that the crime was targeted—not random. The case remains open.

Why the Case Endures

The Keddie Cabin Murders are not just an unsolved crime; they are a grim parable about vulnerability, injustice, and the way evil can hide in plain sight.

It’s the story of a mother trying to give her children a better life, only to have that dream destroyed in one night of unimaginable violence. It’s about a town that never truly woke from its nightmare.

Cabin 28 was demolished in 2004, but the murders still echo in the tall pines. And perhaps most haunting of all is the thought that someone out there knows exactly what happened that night—and has kept it a secret for over forty years.