Blanca Turrubiate-Simpson, the Murdaugh family’s longtime housekeeper, still sees it in her mind’s eye: a white pickup truck parked near the hangar on the Moselle property. Years after the shocking deaths of Maggie and Paul Murdaugh, that image remains a haunting question mark, a detail that refuses to fade. It’s a detail that gnaws at her, a silent witness to a tragedy she couldn’t comprehend.
Her new book, a deeply personal account of her friendship with Maggie, delves into the unsettling details surrounding that fateful night. It wasn’t just the loss of the Murdaughs that shook Blanca, but the subtle inconsistencies, the things that felt…off. She recalls assuming the truck belonged to Paul, a familiar sight, and felt no immediate alarm. But later, the question became inescapable: who was driving that truck?
The memory is particularly vivid because of a strange impulse she felt that night – a compelling urge to leave the property through a different gate than usual. She bypassed the kennels, the very place where Maggie and Paul would later be discovered, victims of brutal gunfire. Was it coincidence? Or something more? Blanca now wonders if a silent force guided her, diverting her from a scene she wasn’t meant to witness.
The morning after the murders, Blanca noticed something else amiss. Maggie’s car wasn’t parked where she always left it. It was further from the house, positioned near the hunting room entrance – a spot Maggie never used. It was a small detail, easily overlooked, but Blanca, intimately familiar with the family’s routines, knew something was wrong. This wasn’t Maggie’s doing.
Her suspicions about Alex Murdaugh didn’t fully solidify until she saw the bodycam footage from the first officer on the scene. Initially reluctant to watch, her husband urged her to. Then, a fleeting glimpse of a familiar towel changed everything. It was a towel she had just washed, destined for the Murdaugh’s island getaway.
“Go back, go back, go back,” she pleaded with her husband, rewinding the footage. The realization hit her with devastating force. That towel, inexplicably present at the crime scene, pointed to only one conclusion: Alex Murdaugh was involved. It didn’t align with the loving father she knew, the man she’d observed within the walls of the family home.
Blanca believes Alex likely didn’t act alone, suggesting someone assisted him in the aftermath, perhaps helping to clean up or stage the scene. The distance between the house and the kennels, she argues, makes it improbable that he could have acted entirely on his own within the timeframe presented. It’s a theory born from years of observing the family’s habits and rhythms.
Ultimately, Blanca’s motivation for sharing her story isn’t about speculation or sensationalism. It’s about remembering Paul and Maggie, ensuring they aren’t reduced to footnotes in a scandal. She wants their lives, their personalities, to be remembered, not overshadowed by the darkness that consumed their final moments.
As Alex Murdaugh’s appeal looms, Blanca emphasizes the importance of a fair trial for all involved. She believes in the law and the need for justice. She has no desire to watch dramatizations of the events she lived through, finding no value in reliving the trauma through a screen. She lived it, and that is enough.
