Thelma and Louise, in the movie of the same name, didn’t plan to commit murder, robbery, and arson when they took off on a weekend road trip. One thing led to another and it just sort of happened.
Four years later, two women in Texas would become equally notorious for a crime spree that had such clear echoes of the iconic silver-screen duo that newspapers as far away as the U.K. would refer to them as the “Real-Life ‘Thelma and Louise.’” The one big difference: their felonious jaunt targeting men was a little more planned, at least at first.
Over three months in early 1995, Rose Marie Turford, suburban mother of three, and Joyce Carolyn Stevens, daughter of a minister, inveigled and robbed at least 10 men of $250,000 under the auspices of going on a date. But it was after they were arrested and bailed out that the real chaos began.
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The women led the authorities and their harried bail bondsman on a chase across the country and into Canada. As their story began to spill across the headlines, there were tales of a mysterious man pulling the strings, of disguises ranging from nuns to strippers, of a new plot to kidnap and ransom prominent Canadians. When they were finally caught, they were photographed laughing and smiling in the back of a Canadian Mountie police car.
“The reality is that these two ladies have been doing crazy things. They started out for fun but it all got over their heads,” their bail bondsman, Clement Romeo, told The Guardian in October 1995 while he was in the thick of the manhunt. “They have not killed anyone, though, not blown up a tanker truck and not driven over a cliff.”
“I think Carolyn was able to weave a web”
So much of our lives in America is spent at the office that it’s no surprise that work is where many of us have met best friends, life partners…and criminal accomplices. Turford and Stevens were no different. In 1992, Turford accepted a nursing job at a psychiatric hospital in Houston where Stevens was working as an aide. The two quickly hit it off.
Turford was the older and more settled of the duo—when they were finally caught, she was 37 to Stevens’ 30. She lived in the suburbs of Houston, was married to a computer executive, and was portrayed by those who knew her as a stereotypical baseball mom to her three young sons. She was the picture of a respectable late-20th century woman. Stevens was single and characterized as the “timid and mousey daughter of a Texas preacher.” Needless to say, the collective response to what happened next was shock—how could these “girls” (as they were infuriatingly referred to) have broken so bad?
The portrait of propriety began to fray in early 1994 when Stevens moved in with the Turford family. It was there that a mysterious third player entered the scene, one who most likely never existed. People began to notice bruises and other evidence of injury on Stevens. When questioned, she blamed the wounds on a man named “Avery,” who was allegedly threatening not just her, but the entire Turford family as a way of coercing her into doing whatever he wanted.
At trial, Turford’s lawyers portrayed Stevens as the mastermind behind the crime spree, saying she lured her friend into joining her bad behavior. But whether that was the case and, if so, to what extent Turford was a victim of Stevens’s fabrications or an active player is unclear.
“Carolyn is Avery,” Romeo told the Washington Post. "But I don’t know Rose knew this. I think Carolyn was able to weave a web.” Romeo would later say that he think Carolyn was inspired to create Avery by the book-turned-film The Magus, in which an unassuming teacher falls prey to a wealthy man and his companion.
As bizarre as the atmosphere in the Turford house must have been during this time, it got even more wild when the real crimes began in January of 1995.
Women today are well aware that some caution is needed when using dating apps—meet new romantic prospects in a public place, beware of catfishing and worse. Its hard to imagine that the men who were using dating services in the mid-1990s were similarly concerned about their safety. But they should have been because that’s where the “real-life Thelma and Louise” saw an opportunity.
Using dating services and personal ads, the two would find dates and then vet their potential as targets either by researching the names and information they received from the services or planning an initial exploratory meet-up to check them out.
Once they determined that their mark was financially promising, they would use one of two tactics to get him right where they wanted him. In the first, Turford would lure her date to a private place where Stevens would join them. In the second, the women would both show up to the man’s house later in the day after a date claiming to be police officers investigating dating service clients who were suspected of targeting women.
In both cases, the man would quickly be restrained. From there, the two criminals winged it. Sometimes they stripped and humiliated their victims, sometimes they threatened them with a gun. Later, police would find wigs, ropes, a stun gun, and a regular gun in an apartment they had been using. The “date” always ended the same way: Turford and Stevens walked away with the man’s cash and credit cards.
It is believed that during their initial run, they had at least 10 victims between Houston and Las Vegas. Their haul was around $250,000 for just a few months of “work.”
It was that same amount that the judge set for each of their bail after they were caught in May 1995. Their families, who expressed resounding shock and disbelief that the two women could have done anything like what they were accused of, paid it. Turford and Stevens repaid their love ones’ generosity by immediately skipping town.
It was during their months on the run that their case became widely publicized. The two appeared on “Unsolved Mysteries” and “America’s Most Wanted.” Local newspapers across the country reported on new developments and new leads in the case. After sightings started coming out of Canada, authorities from two countries became involved in the hunt.
But the man who was the most consumed by the chase was bail bondsman Romeo who not only had a lot of money on the line, but who also admitted that he had become “intrigued” by “the girls.”
“The girls aren’t criminals,” he said in September during month four of his search. “They’re just messed up.”
The authorities were a little more skeptical of what the motive behind this seemingly uncharacteristic turn to the dark side. “I think they both were looking for a different lifestyle,” police officer Alex Hardesty told the Los Angeles Times, adding that “the robberies were well planned; they stood out from the pack.”
Police Officer Todd Janke said the robberies were “some of the best I’ve ever seen.”
Romeo widely publicized the case, giving interviews, creating Wanted posters and T-shirts, and looking into the many tips that began to pore in. The duo was spotted dressed as nuns and as strippers. They stole a rental car, then left a note of apology when they ditched it. They even interacted with actual law enforcement in a small town in Canada when police found Turford having a free breakfast at a synagogue and decided to take her for a check up at the hospital after they became concerned by how run down she looked.
She apparently bounced back from the doldrums of her road trip on the run. By the time the pair were caught outside of Toronto in early October, they seemed to be in good spirits and were hamming it up for the cameras.
Both were deported back to Houston, a blow for Turford who was actually Canadian. From there, their story diverges from that of their Hollywood inspiration. Rather than riding off hand-in-hand into void, the legal process divided them.
They were facing 99 years to life in the Texas courts on three counts of aggravated robbery. Stevens took a plea deal, telling it all in exchange for only 10 years in prison. Turford, however, decided to take her chances in court. Her lawyers spun a tale of an upstanding wife and mother who was manipulated by a best friend who turned out to be a criminal. The jury didn’t buy it. Turford was sentenced to 30 years in prison.
As for Romeo, the one eventful summer pursuing his “Thelma and Louise” turned out to be a highlight of his life. The case of Rose Marie Turford and Joyce Carolyn Stevens was the most famous of his long career.
