Girls Bones Were Scattered Throughout The Forest Around His House | True Crime Documentary

The early morning chill settled heavily over the pine thickets and sugar sand trails of southern Brevard County, Florida. Deep within the vast, labyrinthine expanse known as the Compound, exhaust fumes curled into the damp dawn air as a black Chevrolet pickup truck crept along the deserted grid of overgrown asphalt.

Underneath the tree canopy, hidden within the shadows, undercover surveillance teams watched through long-lens cameras and night-vision optics. Above them, suspended three thousand feet in the sky, a police helicopter maintained a silent orbit, tracking every slow rotation of the pickup’s tires.

For more than two weeks, detectives from the Brevard County Sheriff’s Office had quietly trailed thirty-two-year-old Daniel Sterns. They had recorded his movements, analyzed his phone records, and mapped his daily habits, waiting for the single misstep that would reveal the fate of a missing mother of two.

On that morning of March 9, Sterns had loaded his truck bed with a pair of heavy shovels, a plastic bucket, and a folded tarp before driving south. He parked near an overgrown cul-de-sac, stepped out into the humid air, and grabbed his equipment from the back.

Without looking around, he disappeared into the dense palmetto brush, leaving only crushed twigs and deep boot prints in his wake.

Ground units positioned along the perimeter communicated through muted radio frequencies, holding their positions to avoid giving away their presence.

Inside the cockpit of the surveillance helicopter, the crew monitored Sterns’ path through thermal imaging. They watched as he walked back and forth between his truck and the thick woods, carrying objects deeper into the brush.

After several trips, Sterns emerged from the foliage and walked toward a nearby drainage canal.

He crouched by the water’s edge, bending down to submerge a dark container into the canal as if attempting to scrub away the final physical traces of a hidden crime.

The aviation unit’s fuel gauge was approaching critical levels, forcing the pilots to make an urgent operational decision.

“Star, you’re going to have to get out of here,” a ground officer radioed, noticing the aircraft’s presence becoming risky. “You’re directly over top of his location.”

“We’re almost out of fuel anyway,” the pilot replied over the headset. “We have to head back to base right now.”

“Understood,” the ground coordinator responded. “We have visual contact from the tree line. We’ll take over completely.”

As the sound of the helicopter rotors faded into the distance, ground officers watched Sterns return to the edge of the canal.

He was holding a round plastic bucket, dipping it into the dark water and rinsing the interior with methodical, unhurried movements.

Detectives realized that waiting any longer presented an unacceptable risk of losing vital physical evidence to the current.

“We’re coming in hot right now,” the lead officer announced over the tactical channel. “Move in and take him.”

Tactical officers surged from the treeline with weapons drawn, closing the distance before Sterns could react or flee into the brush.

Within seconds, Sterns was forced to the ground, pinned against the muddy bank, and secured in handcuffs without incident.

While Sterns was placed in the back of a cruiser, specialized search units and a human remains detection K9 named Tito were deployed into the woods.

Tito moved quickly through the brush, sniffing the air before zeroing in on a patch of scorched earth near Alcoa Street.

The dog sat sharply and let out a single alert, marking the first of five separate sites where human decomposition was detected.

Forensic investigators equipped with sifting screens, trowels, and evidence bags spread out across the area to examine the soil.

Beneath layers of loose dirt, pine needles, and charcoal ash, officers made a discovery that transformed a missing persons search into a homicide investigation.

Scattered across four distinct locations were hundreds of small, charred human bone fragments, teeth, burned patches of tissue, and a severed finger.

The sheer volume and condition of the remains shocked even veteran crime scene technicians who had worked decades in law enforcement.

The victim had been exposed to extreme temperatures in an apparent effort to destroy physical evidence and prevent identification.

Medical examiners faced an arduous task, as days of exposure to heat, rain, and wildlife had severely degraded the biological material.

Despite the severe destruction, specialized DNA testing eventually provided a definitive match that confirmed the department’s worst fears.

The scattered bone fragments belonged to forty-four-year-old Nancy Howry, a mother who had vanished weeks earlier without a trace.

An autopsy concluded that Howry had suffered a fatal gunshot wound to the head before her body was subjected to post-mortem destruction.

Every piece of physical evidence recovered from the Compound pointed back to the thirty-two-year-old military veteran sitting in the interrogation room.

Sterns had spent hours in those woods attempting to erase the evidence, believing the vast, unmonitored land would keep his secret forever.

To understand how Nancy Howry ended up in that remote patch of woods, investigators had to trace her life back several years.

Nancy and her ex-husband, Todd Howry, had spent most of their sixteen-year marriage living a comfortable lifestyle in California.

Todd worked as a successful executive in the technology sector, earning a substantial income that allowed the family to invest heavily in real estate.

Over time, the couple acquired several properties across the country, including residential duplexes and vacation rentals in Florida.

They raised two children, a daughter and a son born two years apart, and frequently took international trips with Nancy’s mother.

Nancy maintained an active presence online, running a YouTube channel where she published content primarily in her native language, Portuguese.

Her videos portrayed a warm, family-oriented life, featuring home baking tutorials, child-rearing advice, and travel tips for parents.

To outward observers, the Howry family appeared to be enjoying the benefits of hard work, financial stability, and domestic success.

Behind closed doors, however, serious structural strain began to erode the foundation of their marriage during the late months of 2019.

Todd grew increasingly suspicious that Nancy was engaging in extramarital affairs while spending time at their property near Pompano Beach.

The tension escalated rapidly into open hostility, leading Nancy to formally file for divorce in a South Florida family court.

Although the dissolution of their marriage was legally finalized in 2020, intense personal bitterness continued to define their interactions.

By early 2023, Nancy and Todd had both relocated to Florida, establishing separate residences while sharing joint custody of their kids.

Their custody agreement mandated an equal split of weekends and rotating responsibilities for driving the thirteen- and eleven-year-olds to school.

On Thursday, February 16, 2023, Nancy failed to arrive at the school parking lot to pick up the children at the end of the day.

School administrators contacted Todd, who expressed mild annoyance but assumed his ex-wife had simply mismanaged her daily schedule.

When Nancy missed the school pickup again on Friday, February 17, Todd realized that her absence was out of character even for her.

On Saturday morning, February 18, Todd walked into the Indian Harbor Beach Police Department to file an official missing person report.

Indian Harbor Beach officers initiated a missing person case, taking down descriptions of Nancy’s vehicle and reviewing her recent contact history.

Less than twenty-four hours later, a crucial break in the investigation occurred miles away in the neighboring city of Palm Bay.

On the morning of February 19, a resident on Oakleaf Street noticed a gray minivan parked at an odd angle near Plat Avenue.

The vehicle had been sitting in the exact same spot for days, prompting the resident to dial the Palm Bay Police Department dispatcher.

Officer Press arrived on the scene to inspect the vehicle and quickly ran the license plate through the state database.

The registration returned to Nancy Howry, triggering an immediate notification to the lead detective on the missing person case.

Officer Press interviewed the resident who had reported the vehicle to gather details about when the van had first appeared.

“Do you know anything about this van down here?” Officer Press asked, gesturing toward the gray vehicle.

“No, it’s been down there for days,” the neighbor replied, standing near her driveway. “About a week, I’d guess.”

“Has it moved at all, or has it just been sitting in that exact spot?” Press asked.

“Just sitting right there,” the neighbor said. “At first I thought maybe someone left it for a friend, or was sleeping in the back.”

Officer Press walked up to the driver’s side window of the minivan and peered through the tinted glass to inspect the interior.

The doors were locked, but several items were clearly visible resting on the front passenger seat and floorboards.

A Florida driver’s license lay face down on the upholstery alongside a bank card and a mobile phone charging cord.

In the rear cargo area, officers observed several plastic grocery bags packed with non-perishable food items, including dry beans and bottled water.

“She’s got a lot of food in here,” Officer Press remarked to a backup officer arriving on scene. “It looks like she went grocery shopping.”

“The car is completely locked,” the second officer noted, shining a flashlight onto the side windows. “Look at that handprint on the glass.”

“Yeah, that handprint looks strange,” Press observed, pointing to a smudge on the window panel. “Something happened right after she bought these groceries.”

Officers documented the scene, dusted the exterior door handles for latent fingerprints, and arranged for the vehicle to be towed to an impound lot.

While crime scene technicians processed the minivan, detectives focused their attention on Todd Howry to understand his ex-wife’s lifestyle.

Todd spoke openly about Nancy’s personal struggles, describing a history of heavy alcohol consumption and erratic personal behavior.

“She drinks like no one you’ve ever seen,” Todd told investigators during an initial interview at the police station.

“When she didn’t pick up the kids, I checked the county booking site because she’s been arrested twice before,” he continued.

“I expected her to be passed out somewhere,” Todd added. “It’s not entirely out of the norm for her to disappear for a bit.”

Detectives asked Todd to clarify the nature of his recent communication with Nancy leading up to her disappearance.

“When was the last time you actually spoke with her or exchanged messages?” a detective asked, writing in a notepad.

“We don’t talk,” Todd replied flatly. “Our texting is mostly just insults back and forth.”

“Can you show us the text messages from your phone?” the detective requested, leaning forward.

“Here,” Todd said, handing over his device. “You can see January 20th was the last time she responded to me.”

The text log revealed a relationship marked by mutual anger, harsh personal insults, and unresolved disputes regarding parenting standards.

On February 16 and 17, Todd had sent several unanswered messages urging Nancy to contact the family regarding the children.

“Please let us know what’s going on,” one text read. “The kids miss you and need to be picked up.”

“I was actually looking at homeless people on the side of the road this morning,” Todd told the officers, shaking his head. “Hoping she’d pop up.”

Based on Todd’s statements regarding her drinking habits, officers organized a search of a nearby wooded area known for homeless encampments.

Patrol officers carefully navigated the dense underbrush near Oakleaf Street, watching out for discarded needles and hazardous debris.

“Just beware of needles and stuff down here,” an officer called out to his partner as they pushed through the palmettos.

They called out Nancy’s name and inspected several temporary shelters, but found no sign that she had ever visited the site.

Detectives simultaneously reached out to Nancy’s mother, Moren, who offered a starkly different perspective on the situation.

Moren expressed deep suspicion toward Todd, telling investigators that her former son-in-law was consumed by resentment over the divorce.

“If something happened to my daughter, he is the one responsible,” Moren asserted during a recorded telephone interview.

“He drove her crazy and made her life miserable,” Moren stated. “He knew how to push her buttons and destroy her.”

However, Moren also acknowledged that Nancy had been dating several different men whom she had met through social apps and personal connections.

“She went out with different people,” Moren explained. “She told a friend she had multiple meetings scheduled in a single day.”

“One was named Matthew, and another was named Daniel,” Moren added, providing the first names to the investigative team.

Detectives noted the names and immediately set out to verify Todd Howry’s timeline for the days surrounding Nancy’s disappearance.

Subpoenaed cellular location data and financial records quickly corroborated Todd’s account of his whereabouts on February 14 and 15.

Surveillance footage from local retail stores confirmed Todd was miles away from the location where Nancy’s minivan was abandoned.

Despite the obvious hostility between the former spouses, the physical and digital evidence definitively ruled Todd out as a suspect.

Detectives shifted their focus toward reconstructing Nancy’s final verified movements on Wednesday, February 15, 2023.

Investigators learned that around 11:00 AM on February 15, Nancy visited the home of her close friend, Jana Ramos.

The two women sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee and conversing in Portuguese about their weekly schedules and personal lives.

Jana recalled that Nancy appeared unusually preoccupied, repeatedly checking her mobile phone as it charged on the kitchen counter.

Nancy explained that she was exchanging text messages with a thirty-two-year-old man named Daniel Sterns, whom she had been seeing.

“She was standing right by the counter texting Daniel while we were talking,” Jana told detectives during a formal interview.

“Did she tell you what they were texting about?” the detective asked Jana.

“She said they had a big argument on Valentine’s Day,” Jana replied, translating her recollection of the conversation.

“But she told me they worked it out,” Jana continued. “She said she was happy again and was going to meet him.”

Around noon on February 15, Nancy said goodbye to Jana, stepped into her gray minivan, and drove away to meet Sterns.

That coffee visit marked the absolute final time anyone in Nancy’s personal network saw her alive.

Her mobile phone registered its last connection to the commercial cellular network shortly after noon before disconnecting permanently.

Detectives reviewed the initial case files and noted that an officer had already conducted a brief preliminary interview with Daniel Sterns on February 19.

During that initial interaction, Sterns had claimed that he had not seen or spoken to Nancy for several weeks prior to her disappearance.

Jana’s testimony and Nancy’s phone records contradicted Sterns’ timeline, prompting detectives to schedule a second, formal interview.

Agent Tyler Peterson from the Brevard County Sheriff’s Office traveled to Sterns’ residence to ask more detailed questions about his relationship with Nancy.

“How are you doing?” Agent Peterson asked as Sterns opened the door. “I’m Agent Peterson with the Sheriff’s Office.”

“I remember Palm Bay came out to talk to me,” Sterns said, standing near the doorway with a guarded posture.

“We’ve taken over the case,” Peterson explained. “I wanted to clear up a few details about your friendship with Nancy.”

“Yeah, like I told the other guys, we had a falling out,” Sterns replied, keeping his voice even and low.

“When exactly was this falling out?” Peterson asked, watching Sterns’ body language closely.

“About a week before they came out,” Sterns said. “I deleted her number and blocked her on everything.”

Background checks revealed that Daniel Sterns was a thirty-two-year-old United States Army veteran who had served an overseas tour in Afghanistan.

After leaving active military service, Sterns had settled in Brevard County, working various jobs while maintaining an active fitness routine.

He had met forty-four-year-old Nancy Howry on Tinder more than two years earlier, initiating an on-and-off romantic involvement.

Sterns insisted to detectives that he had severed contact because Nancy refused to respect the boundaries he tried to establish in the relationship.

“We weren’t clicking,” Sterns told Agent Peterson during the doorway interview. “She wasn’t following relationship rules.”

“What kind of rules?” Peterson asked.

“Just basic boundaries,” Sterns responded. “I told her I didn’t want to continue because it wasn’t good for me.”

“How did you two usually communicate?” Peterson inquired, probing for specific platforms.

“Phone calls, Snapchat, WhatsApp,” Sterns answered. “She would call me from different numbers sometimes.”

Sterns admitted that following their final argument, he had intentionally deleted his entire message history with Nancy from his phone.

He further disclosed that he had completely deleted his Snapchat account, claiming he was concerned about online data privacy.

“I deleted the whole app,” Sterns claimed. “I created a new account later with a different username.”

Agent Peterson noted the destruction of digital records as a significant red flag, pressing Sterns on the precise date of their last contact.

“So prior to the police coming out on the 19th, when was the last time you saw her in person?” Peterson asked.

“Like I said, a week and some days,” Sterns stammered, pausing to adjust his stance. “Not more than a half a week before that.”

“What was your old Snapchat handle?” Peterson followed up.

“Good vibe,” Sterns replied after a brief hesitation. “Something like Good Vibe.”

Peterson then asked Sterns the same direct question that had been posed to Todd Howry days earlier.

“Do you have any idea what might have happened to Nancy?” Peterson asked, watching Sterns’ face for emotional reactions.

Unlike Todd, who had expressed genuine confusion, Sterns immediately redirected suspicion toward one of Nancy’s former romantic partners.

Sterns asserted that Nancy had previously mentioned an ex-boyfriend who had allegedly stalked her and caused domestic disturbances.

“There was a guy who had a domestic violence situation with her,” Sterns alleged, gesturing with his hands.

“She told me he was stalking her,” Sterns continued. “She even said she called the police on him once.”

“When did she tell you about this guy?” Peterson asked.

“Over a year ago,” Sterns admitted. “A year and some months ago, when we first started seeing each other.”

Sterns also suggested that Nancy was actively meeting new men on dating platforms right up until her disappearance.

“She was back on Tinder,” Sterns claimed. “She was showing me that she was going to be on it because I wasn’t talking to her.”

“Did she mention any specific names from Tinder?” Peterson asked.

“No names,” Sterns replied smoothly. “She didn’t give me any names.”

The interview did nothing to relieve the investigators’ growing suspicions; instead, it solidified Sterns as the central focus of the investigation.

Sheriff’s Office investigators placed Sterns under covert, twenty-four-hour physical and electronic surveillance to track his daily routines.

Detectives subpoenaed transaction histories for Sterns’ bank cards, cross-referencing purchases with surveillance footage from local retailers like Walmart and Hobby Lobby.

Cell tower logs were extracted to map the movement of Sterns’ mobile device on February 15, the day Nancy disappeared.

Investigators attempted to secure video footage from a CVS pharmacy where Jana believed Nancy and Sterns had planned to meet, but the files had expired.

Inside Nancy’s abandoned minivan, officers discovered a BP gas station receipt dated February 15, but that station’s video loop had also been overwritten.

However, traffic monitoring cameras along major arterial roads in Palm Bay provided critical visual data for the surveillance team.

Automated license plate readers captured Sterns’ black Chevy pickup traveling repeatedly toward the southwestern sector of Palm Bay known as the Compound.

The Compound was an undeveloped twelve-square-mile tract of land originally planned for residential sub-divisions in the 1980s that was never completed.

Over the decades, the grid of paved roads had become notorious for illegal street racing, unmonitored firearm shooting, dumping, and violent crimes.

On the morning of March 9, surveillance officers observed Sterns loading heavy equipment into his truck bed outside his home.

As Sterns drove south toward the Compound, ground teams trailed behind while the Star Aviation helicopter maintained visual contact from the sky.

Undercover officers watched Sterns navigate the deserted streets before coming to a stop along Alcoa Street deep within the interior.

Sterns stepped out of the truck, grabbed a long-handled shovel, and walked approximately fifty feet into the thick wood line.

For several minutes, he remained hidden beneath the dense foliage while officers recorded his location coordinates from a distance.

Sterns then returned to his vehicle, drove to a second location near Maricort and Saucel Avenue, and repeated the process.

Sky surveillance became increasingly complex as the helicopter crew fought to stay high enough to avoid engine noise detection while keeping Sterns in sight.

When the aircraft was forced to return to the airport to refuel, ground units maintained unbroken physical coverage on the suspect.

By the time the helicopter returned, Sterns had driven to the bank of a major drainage canal running along the edge of the property.

Ground officers watched through binoculars as Sterns carried items back and forth between his truck cab and the water’s edge.

Observing Sterns crouched at the water line, officers concluded that he was attempting to wash away chemical or biological residue.

“He’s in the water right now,” the air crew confirmed to ground teams over the radio channel. “He’s rinsing something out.”

Realizing that vital physical evidence could be destroyed, the ground commander authorized an immediate tactical arrest.

Cruisers accelerated down the dirt track, cutting off Sterns’ escape route and taking him into custody without a struggle.

Following the arrest on March 9, search teams brought in Tito, the certified human remains detection dog, to systematically inspect the area.

Tito alerted at five distinct points across the Compound, beginning with the initial stop Sterns had made on Alcoa Street.

The dog also alerted near Mory Court, along an embankment on South Avenue, beside the canal bank, and on the tailgate of Sterns’ truck.

Forensic teams excavating the alerted sites recovered over eight hundred bone fragments, teeth, burned skin tissue, and a severed finger.

The condition of the remains indicated that the victim’s body had been subjected to extreme heat using accelerants to consume soft tissue.

Near the canal bank where Sterns was arrested, investigators found a single women’s sandal and circular impressions in the wet mud.

Dive teams thoroughly searched the canal floor near the arrest site, but recovered no additional items from the murky water.

Despite the severe degradation of the biological samples, the medical examiner successfully extracted DNA that positively identified the remains as Nancy Howry.

The medical examiner concluded that Nancy’s official cause of death was a fatal gunshot wound to the head.

With physical evidence secured, detectives brought Daniel Sterns into the Brevard County Sheriff’s Office for formal custodial interrogation.

Roughly four minutes into the recorded interview, Sterns abruptly abandoned his previous claim of non-involvement and offered a new account.

“We wouldn’t be sitting right here if you didn’t have everything,” Sterns admitted, leaning his elbows on the metal table.

“It was self-defense,” Sterns claimed, looking directly at the interviewing detective across the small table.

“I was taking her to the Compound to teach her how to shoot,” Sterns said, describing his version of the events of February 15.

“We got there, and in the middle of me showing her how to aim, she goes for my gun,” Sterns alleged.

“She nearly gets a hold of it,” he continued. “She goes absolutely berserk, not wanting to take no for an answer.”

“We got into a grapple,” Sterns asserted. “She even spat on my hand while we were fighting over the gun.”

“After multiple times, I couldn’t take the chance again,” Sterns said, defending his decision to discharge the firearm.

“When you say ‘she’, who are you referring to?” the detective asked, seeking clarification for the official record.

“Why do I have to say the name?” Sterns asked, hesitating.

“Because I need to know who you’re talking about,” the detective stated. “Are you talking about Nancy Howry?”

“Yes,” Sterns quietly confirmed. “Nancy Howry.”

Detectives noted the significant physical disparities between the two individuals involved in the alleged physical struggle.

Sterns was thirty-two years old, stood over six feet tall, weighed over two hundred pounds, and possessed formal military combat training.

He had boxed regularly during his military deployment and was trained in Aikido martial arts techniques designed to disarm attackers.

Nancy was forty-four years old, stood several inches shorter, and weighed approximately one hundred and fifty pounds.

Despite his physical advantages and combat experience, Sterns maintained that he had no choice but to fire a fatal shot.

“She was in my face,” Sterns insisted during the interview. “She spat on my hand in the grapple.”

“Was your gun slipping?” the detective asked. “Did you have control of the weapon?”

“It was slipping, but I had it,” Sterns admitted. “It seriously felt like my last resort.”

Detectives then questioned Sterns about his actions following the fatal shooting, focusing on why he failed to call emergency services.

Sterns claimed that his deep distrust of law enforcement convinced him that officers would never believe his account of self-defense.

He detailed how he carried Nancy’s body into the brush, left it temporarily, and returned later with tools to bury the remains.

Days later, fearing the shallow grave would be discovered, Sterns dug up the body and moved it to another section of the Compound.

He placed the remains on the ground, poured charcoal lighter fluid over the body, and set it on fire to destroy physical evidence.

When the fire burned out, Sterns returned with plastic buckets, gathered the charred fragments, and scattered them across multiple locations.

“I burned her, and then I buried the remains,” Sterns told the detectives in a flat, emotionless tone.

“I unearthed her to burn her so there wouldn’t be anything left,” he added, confirming the steps of his cover-up.

A search warrant executed on Sterns’ pickup truck yielded two shovels, work gloves, a headlamp, a plastic bucket, and a tarp.

A secondary search of Sterns’ bedroom inside his parents’ home led to the recovery of a loaded Glock 17 nine-millimeter handgun.

Prosecutors formally charged Daniel Sterns with second-degree murder, abuse of a human corpse, and tampering with physical evidence.

Sterns entered a plea of not guilty, and his defense team immediately began filing pre-trial motions to challenge the state’s case.

Prior to the start of the trial, defense attorneys filed a motion to suppress Sterns’ entire interrogation room confession.

The defense argued that detectives had questioned Sterns extensively and obtained self-incriminating details before reading him his Miranda rights.

The presiding judge reviewed the interrogation recordings and ruled that a procedural violation of constitutional rights had indeed occurred.

As a result, the judge suppressed Sterns’ entire confession, rendering it completely inadmissible for the upcoming jury trial.

The suppression ruling meant prosecutors could not mention Sterns’ admissions regarding the shooting, the burial, or the burning of the body.

The state was forced to rebuild its case using circumstantial evidence, physical items, digital records, and forensic analysis.

When the trial commenced in late 2025, prosecutors presented a detailed timeline built on Sterns’ personal internet search history.

Digital forensics experts testified that following the Valentine’s Day argument, Sterns performed specific, disturbing web searches.

Records showed Sterns visited uncensored video sites, searching for terms like “woman dying from stab wounds” and “uncensored murder videos.”

He had also searched the phrase, “the fastest way to teach someone a lesson in Brazil,” referencing Nancy’s native country.

In the days following Nancy’s death, Sterns searched for news articles regarding missing persons in Palm Bay and dead bodies in the Compound.

Additionally, transaction records revealed Sterns had searched Amazon for heavy-duty butane torches shortly before his arrest.

Prosecutors argued that Sterns was driven by extreme possessiveness and rage when Nancy refused to submit to his personal demands.

“He expected her to follow his rules,” the prosecutor told the jury during opening arguments. “When she didn’t, he executed her.”

The state emphasized that Nancy’s minivan contained freshly purchased groceries, suggesting she had been ambushed or coerced into traveling to the Compound.

The defense team opted not to deliver an opening statement and rested their case without calling a single witness to testify.

During closing arguments, defense counsel presented an alternative theory, suggesting Nancy could have inflicted the fatal wound on herself.

“You’ve heard no testimony that he ever shot her in the head,” the defense attorney argued to the jury.

“The medical testimony shows damage consistent with a gunshot,” the defense continued. “That is equally consistent with an accident or self-inflicted wound.”

“The state must prove beyond a reasonable doubt what happened out there, and they simply have not done it,” the defense concluded.

While acknowledging that Sterns had disposed of the remains after her death, the defense maintained that post-mortem actions did not prove murder.

“Concealing a body, as horrific as it is, does not automatically make someone a murderer,” the defense attorney stated.

Following closing arguments, the jury retired to the deliberation room to evaluate weeks of complex forensic and digital evidence.

After approximately two and a half hours of deliberation, the jury returned to the courtroom with a unanimous verdict.

The jury found Daniel Sterns guilty on all charges: second-degree murder, abuse of a human corpse, and tampering with evidence.

Before sentencing was pronounced, Todd Howry addressed the court to deliver a victim impact statement on behalf of his family.

“What happened took away my children’s mother, took away Nancy from her life, and took away her mother’s only child,” Todd stated.

“I have no doubt in my mind that if my children had been with her that day, he would have done the exact same thing to them,” Todd added.

The judge sentenced Daniel Sterns to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole for the second-degree murder conviction.

The court imposed two additional consecutive twenty-two-year prison terms for the abuse of a corpse and evidence tampering counts.

Today, Daniel Sterns is serving his life sentence at the Suwannee Correctional Institution in Live Oak, Florida.

The resolution of the trial brought formal legal justice for Nancy Howry, closing a horrific chapter for her surviving children and family.