In 1982, Beverly Simcic and Christine Casilio were friends. Sort of.
The pair had been roommates for a while but Christine’s lifestyle was a bit more risky than Beverly liked, especially with a young son in her care and she’d parted company with Christine.
But in May 1982, when Christine presents Beverly with the idea of a vacation in Las Vegas, the unemployed Beverly decides that just may be what she needs.
Leaving her son behind with her parents, Beverly and Christine, or Chrissy as she was called, headed West to Sin City.
Not long after their arrival, the same issues which had sent Beverly packing in Pittsburgh began to rear their ugly head in Las Vegas. And again, the duo went their separate ways.
In the end, however, one would wind up dead and the other would spend two decades burdened by too many unanswered questions.
Who Killed Chrissy is written by Beverly Simcic, the surviving friend in this fickle relationship.
While marketed as a true crime, I found this to be more of an unburdening of the author’s survivor’s guilt. While readers are given some details into the “crime,” more pages are dedicated to recalling Chrissy’s poor decision making and bad behavior. Frankly, several times it crossed my mind, “Friend?”
And if I must be perfectly honest, I walked away from the book wondering if there even was a crime. Beverly certainly believes so and, based on her recollection, I can certainly see why but if there is one thing I’ve learned in the years I’ve been involved in criminal fields, the mind can play nasty tricks on us all. There is quite the possibility Chrissy’s death was nothing more than a horrible accident just as the Las Vegas Police Department believed.
Yes, there are indeed some shady characters: a Pittsburgh cop and a black dude named Fred who was also staying at the Woodbridge Inn Apartments – with whom, it should also be said, Beverly had sex with in the hot tub within minutes of meeting him. (Can anyone else say WTH?!)
I know the author needed to unburden herself, she says as much in the book, but it was just a little too much. When I was done I knew only a little about the suspected crime, too much about Beverly, and felt very sorry for Chrissy to be trash-talked in such a way so many years after her departure from this world.
There is no way I can recommend Who Killed Chrissy? And judging from the comments left by Beverly Simcic to other reviewers at Amazon, I know the author isn’t going to like it. But my obligation is to you, dear readers, so steer clear folks unless you’ve got money and time to burn.
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