'No closure ever:' Mother seeks justice 8 years after Evansville DJ's shooting death

EVANSVILLE – Shane Breedlove didn’t know which song to sing.

It was June 8, 2014, less than a week before he planned to travel to Cleveland to audition for NBC’s “The Voice.”

He’d been singing since his mom and stepdad bought him a karaoke machine in the mid-1980s, so he had plenty of choices. Still, this was his dream. He had to get it right. So he drove to his family’s 51-acre sprawl in Robards, Kentucky, to walk around the lake and think.

His mom, Carole Cleveland, hopped on her golf cart and joined him.

“I got to listen to him sing and choose,” she said. “He wanted that tranquil, quiet place.”

He eventually went with Joe Cocker's version of “Unchain My Heart” and “Light On” by David Cook. Six days later, he, a friend and his mom went to Ohio and stood amid thousands of other hopefuls.

He sang well, like always, but fell short. After returning home, he did something rare: He went somewhere by himself. In a Facebook post, he snapped a selfie atop a cliff at Garden of the Gods, smiling with the sun at his back.

Warrants in case remain sealed

On July 19, 2015, he went for another walk.

Since a friend had borrowed his car, he set out on foot from his home on South Burkhardt Road, heading to his regular deejaying gig at KC’s Timeout Lounge. Police say he was near the 6000 block of Washington Avenue, talking on the phone with a friend, when he suddenly said, “hold on for a moment.”

The friend sat the phone down and waited for Breedlove to speak again. He never did.

Just before 9:30 p.m., a nearby resident called 911 and said someone had been shot. When police arrived, they pronounced Breedlove dead at the scene. He was 41.

Police arrested three men a few weeks later and charged them murder, a move Cleveland worried may have happened too soon. Investigators said a father, his then-19-year-old son, and another man were in a white Buick when they approached Breedlove and shot him in the street.

Less than two months later, however, prosecutors dismissed the charges, citing a lack of evidence. But they did so “without prejudice,” meaning the charges could be refiled in the future. (Since the charges were dismissed, the Courier & Press isn’t naming the suspects in this story.)

Now, eight years later, Evansville police spokeswoman Sgt. Anna Gray said the case is still active. Detectives continue to follow tips and leads, and will do so “no matter how much time has passed.” Anyone with information can call the Evansville Police Department at 812-436-7979.

The Courier & Press attempted to obtain an affidavit in the case, but a police captain told the newspaper on Monday that no affidavit was ever filed. And according to court records, the warrants against the three men remain sealed.

Cleveland says she meets with the EPD every three months or so to talk about the case, even as it bounces to different detectives. And she’s hopeful that one day she’ll see her son’s killers hauled from a courtroom in handcuffs.

But a conviction wouldn’t be the same thing as closure.

“Please emphasize to people that when you lose a child – your own child – there is no closure ever. Even if we get some justice,” she said. “… People say, ‘Well good, you’ll have closure.’ No. That’s a void deep down in me that will never be healed.”

‘That Shane Breedlove charm’

Shane Breedlove always loved music.

Along with his natural singing voice, he taught himself to plays drums, guitar and piano. That versatility landed him in countless bands from the time he was 14 years old, and Cleveland still remembers watching him play his first gig.

Breedlove blazed through every performance venue he could find in his hometown of Henderson, Kentucky, and eventually moved to Evansville, where his ease behind a microphone made him well known throughout the city.

KC’s called him their “beloved DJ.” He lived up to the moniker by spinning tunes and running sound and programming lighting. He also ran karaoke at other bars – and, of course, performed himself.

“He had such a confidence when he took the stage, and I believe that resonated with the audience,” Cleveland said. “Because you know, the women really liked Shane. He probably wasn’t the best-looking guy in the room, but he had that Shane Breedlove charm.

“… We women are kind of fickle when it comes to talented people taking the stage and having that confidence. He knew what he was doing.”

He also repossessed cars during the day, working hard to support his children, who ranged from adulthood to 6 years old.

“Shane was happy-go-lucky. You just never saw him without a smile,” she said. “And I know he had pressures.”

Testifying in a battery trial

One of those arrived a few months before he was killed.

After a 2013 fight at KC’s, Breedlove was subpoenaed to testify in a felony battery trial that finally got underway in March 2015. The man at the center of the case was acquitted, but in August 2015, police said they believed Breedlove was killed in retaliation for his testimony.

That man was believe to be associated with some of the men accused in the shooting, but he was never charged in connection to Breedlove’s death.

Cleveland can’t wrap her head around that supposed motive. How in the world could her son get killed over such a trivial matter?

The night of Breedlove’s death

On July 19, 2015, Cleveland was getting ready for bed when her phone rang.

It was Shane’s wife. She had just gotten a call from the woman Shane had been talking to as he walked, and she was crying so hard that Cleveland could barely make out what she was saying. Eventually, the words came through: he’s dead.

Still remaining calm – “I didn’t lose it right away because none of it was making any sense to me” – Carole got her husband David out of bed and called Shane’s brother and sister-in-law.

The family was driving across the Twin Bridges when another call came through. This time it was from Shane’s oldest son, who had gone to Washington Avenue and seen the horrific sight for himself. That’s when Carole started “screaming.”

Instead of going to the scene, they drove to KC’s, where police were waiting. When Cleveland heard what happened, she couldn’t wrap her head around it.

“You raise your children and you do the best you can. You fumble here and there through life, but you worry about everything they’re getting ready to do. You do everything you can to keep them out of harm,” she said. “And this right here is a murder of Shane. This was never on my radar.”

‘After they’re gone’

Since Shane’s death, the family has seen other losses.

His father Jim died of cancer in 2019, and not long after, Carole’s husband and Shane’s stepfather, David, followed. Carole decided to move into a house in Henderson and sell off the 51 acres in Robards – incuding the lake Shane sang next to.

In recent months, she’s battled health problems of her own “that could have taken me,” she said. But she keeps living and keeps praying, hoping that she’ll live long enough to see justice for her son.

One of his daughters recently had a baby, and she knows Shane “would have loved that little fella so much” – just like Carole loved her son.

She remembers how he’d walk into her home and go straight to the cookie jar. She thinks about his blue eyes and his bear hugs. How he’d belt out “Purple Rain” and smile while his kids snuggled him on her sofa.

Last week, she flipped through her favorite photos of him.

“You realize real quickly after they’re gone, you wish you would have taken more pictures together,” she said.

Contact Jon Webb at jon.webb@courierpress.com.

This article originally appeared on Evansville Courier & Press: Mother seeks justice 8 years after Shane Breedlove's murder