The Murderer Sat at Their Table. No One Knew.
How Jessie Blodgett’s death exposed a chilling betrayal that shattered a Wisconsin town.

July 27 EST: Jessie Blodgett was just 19 when she died. Talented, loved, and lit up every room she walked into. She’d just wrapped up another night on stage in her small Wisconsin town, rehearsing for a musical, smiling that disarming smile of hers. The next morning, her mother found her body in bed.
At first, no one saw it for what it was. There were no signs of a break-in. No bruises. No blood. She looked like she’d fallen asleep.
But something was wrong. Really wrong.
He Cried With Them, Then Walked Away
In the hours after her death, friends started gathering. Among them: Daniel Bartelt, Jessie’s ex. He cried. Sat at the family’s kitchen table. Swapped stories. Held her parents. If there was guilt on his face, no one saw it.
No one wanted to.
Bartelt was grieving, just like the rest of them—or so it seemed. But behind the scenes, detectives were already pulling threads. And when they tugged hard enough, the whole thing started to unravel.
One Mistake Gave Him Away
Just a few days before Jessie was killed, Bartelt had attacked another woman in a park. He used ropes, duct tape, cleaning wipes—the kind of premeditated setup you don’t walk away from without leaving a trace. He left more than that. He left DNA.
Police found the gear in a discarded cereal box, tossed into a public trash can. When that evidence came back to Bartelt, they brought him in.
What sealed it? A casual phrase. During questioning, Bartelt mentioned something about Jessie’s murder that had never been made public. Not even to the family. It was minor. Almost nothing.
But it meant everything.
Investigators knew he’d done it. The question was how much he was willing to admit.
A Town Gut-Punched by the Truth
The case moved fast from there. Within 16 days of Jessie’s death, Bartelt was arrested. In court, prosecutors laid out the horror. How he strangled her. Staged the body. Cleaned up. Then went home, got dressed, and joined her family in grief.
In August 2014, a jury convicted him of rape and murder, sentencing him to life in prison without parole. He also picked up a second sentence for the park assault.
Still, when the Blodgetts found out, there wasn’t rage.
There was heartbreak.
“We didn’t say, ‘We hate him,’” Jessie’s father told People. “We said, ‘What happened to Dan?’”
Because this wasn’t some faceless predator. This was the boy they knew. The one who’d taken Jessie to prom. The one who used to hang out in their living room. He had been part of their lives—and he used that trust to get close one last time.
True Crime Fans Are Watching. Her Family Is Still Living It.
The case has resurfaced in the headlines thanks to the new docuseries A Killer Among Friends. It’s getting traction. People are shocked. The betrayal, the deception it all plays like a Netflix thriller. But for those who lived through it, there’s nothing cinematic about it.
This was their daughter. Their friend. Their student.
Jessie was studying music and theater, planning her next performance. She had no idea Bartelt was capable of what he did. That’s what terrifies people now the idea that a killer could look so normal. So harmless.
Bartelt’s never confessed. More than ten years later, he still claims he’s innocent. Doesn’t matter much legally he’s in for life but emotionally, it keeps the wounds open. No apology. No answers. Just silence.
The Girl Everyone Loved
Jessie wasn’t just a victim. That’s not how people talk about her. She was funny. Driven. She gave off this sense that bigger things were ahead. That’s what’s so unbearable about the ending. It didn’t just rob her. It robbed everyone who knew her.
Her parents have since poured their grief into activism, speaking out against gender-based violence and manipulation. They want people to see the warning signs—not just in strangers, but in people they think they know.
And that might be the hardest truth of all. Jessie was killed by someone she once trusted. Someone they all trusted. The danger wasn’t in the shadows. It was right there at the kitchen table.
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Trained in war zones, raised in Newark, and seasoned in city hall, Jordan blends grit reporting with deep integrity. From floods to finance bills, they’re always first on scene and last to leave.






