Exit 12 - Someone Safe

When someone is living in fear, the person they turn to isn't always family. Sometimes it's simply someone who makes them feel safe and that can change almost in a moment, when they are operating in Survival Mode.

This week, we tell the story of 24-year-old Veronica Lopez, a talented skateboarder whose life touched far more people than headlines could ever capture, and Richard Brady, a father and neighbor remembered for his kindness. Their paths crossed on June 18, 2026, in an act of compassion that ended in unimaginable tragedy.

This episode focuses on who Veronica and Richard were, the lives they lived, and the families who continue to honor their memory.

Transcript

SPEAKER_01 0:00

This is an ongoing case. Some details discussed are alleged and may change as new information becomes available. We will continue to update this story as the investigation and legal proceedings move forward. This is Sarah L, and you're listening to Corridor of Crime. This is Exit 12. Before we begin, we want to acknowledge that today's episode discusses a double homicide and domestic violence. If these topics are personal for you or someone you love, please know that support is available. The National Domestic Violence Hotline can be reached 24-7 at 1-800-799-SAFE. That's 1-800-799-7233. Or by texting start to 88-788. There are people you call when life is going well. And then there are people you call when everything is falling apart. If you've ever been in or even known someone who's been in an abusive relationship, then you understand that it's not uncommon for a victim to reach out to another person for help when they're trying to leave the relationship. Even if it's to someone who's outside of their normal social support system. It could even just be a person who has witnessed snippets of the abuse you or they have experienced. Really, there could be a myriad of reasons why a person reaches out to certain individuals over others. Maybe it's someone who makes them feel understood and believed without shame or judgment. Maybe it's another human being whose very existence somehow settles the noise in their deregulated and traumatized nervous system for unknown reasons. For 24-year-old Veronica Lopez, who had allegedly been in an abusive relationship with 48-year-old Robert Galtman for nearly two years, she turned to her neighbor Richard Brady for help. On the afternoon of June 18th, 2026, Richard Brady was the person Veronica felt safe enough to reach out to that day. Neither of them could have known that her decision to ask for help and Richard's willingness to do what he was known for doing would cost them both of their lives. Welcome, passengers. This is Sarah L, along with ML Browning, two lifelong friends who didn't just stay friends. We stayed curious. This is Corridor of Crime, and we're taking you with us. Every episode is an exit, and every exit is a story. So buckle up. And please remember to always check your blind spots. Richard Brady was a father of two. He also happened to be 48 years old. Not to confuse him with the alleged abuser and suspect in this case. Both men merely happened to have been the same age, and that is seemingly where their commonality ended. Richard Brady was known by the people who loved him as someone who showed up. Heather Cantu, the mother of Richard's 14-year-old son, described him to CBS News of Los Angeles as the kind of man who made people feel safe. Friends of Richard knew he was the person you could call if you needed help or needed someone to listen, or when you simply needed somewhere to go. Heather also described him as a loving father to two children. And that type of endorsement coming from someone who had co-parented with him for at least 14 years is a character endorsement that holds weight. So when Veronica reached out for help, Richard naturally showed up, and that ordinary Thursday afternoon of June 18th would tragically mark their final moments. A decision made for them in the hallway of their complex at the Monterey Station apartments in Pomona, California, decided by a little man incapable of holding his big feelings. A grown man who essentially threw a temper tantrum that ended the lives of two beautiful people. Around my house, they're family, and let's be honest, they're also professional troublemakers. Whether I'm in the studio recording or buried in research for our next episode, I love being able to check in on them from anywhere if they're not with me. That's why I partnered with PetCube. You can see what they're up to, talk to them through the camera, and some models even like you toss them a tree. It's one less thing to worry about when life is really busy. If you'd like to keep an eye on your own furry little suspects, check out PetCube using the affiliate link in our show notes. It really helps support us at the corridor of crime. And your fur babies just might appreciate the extra attention too. Despite life-saving efforts made by the LA County Fire Department, Veronica Lopez, 24, and Richard Brady, 48, separate residents of the apartment complex, were both pronounced dead at the scene in that hallway. The man police say pulled the trigger was gone. According to investigators, Veronica's boyfriend Robert Galtman had fled in a Black Kia sedan before officers had arrived on the scene. Quick editorial note I will likely be refraining from using the suspect's full name as much as possible moving forward and less necessary. Corridor of Crime is committed to honoring lost passengers and keeping our focus on their stories and legacy. We actively choose to honor their lives and avoid sensationalizing the act of violence in which they were taken. This focus helps us be successful in fulfilling this goal. Although we may not always do it perfectly, it is always the approach we're trying to honor with each story. So moving on. After the shooting of 24-year-old Veronica Lopez and her neighbor, 48-year-old Richard Brady, California Highway Patrol had joined the Pomona Police Department in their search to locate the Black Kia sedan. CHP utilized their network of license plate readers to locate the suspect's vehicle, which was subsequently located northbound on I-5. It was discovered near Roxford Street, less than two hours following the shooting, where officers attempted to initiate a traffic stop. The traffic stop was unsuccessful, and that attempt immediately led to a dangerous 90-minute pursuit, a chase that stretched across Southern California while officers attempted to stop the driver. An individual investigators believed had just taken two lives. But before we follow that chase, I want to stay here for just a moment because it's easy to remember police pursuits. It's easy to remember mugshots that sometimes singe forever in our mind's eye, yet it's harder but far more important to remember why Richard Brady extended an olive branch of support in the first place. He wasn't looking for danger. He was doing what people said he always did. He showed up when someone asked. And Veronica Lopez wasn't a headline about domestic violence. That is not her legacy. Far from it. She was, however, a young woman whose life had become increasingly consumed by abuse, by no fault of her own, a situation far too common in our society. So what I'd like to do first is briefly talk about Richard and Veronica and who they were while they were here. Today's episode is sponsored by Miss Congeniality LLC, Highbrow Ingredients, and Lowbrow Humor. Kind of like your bestie. You can find all the information in our show notes. We hope future collaborations through Corridor of Crime and Miss Congeniality Candles can help support LGBTQ plus outreach and crisis resources. If there's an organization you believe in, we'd love to hear about it. Please reach out at studio at CorridorofCrime.com. Heather Cantu, whom I mentioned previously as the mother of Richard's oldest son, discussed his character in interviews immediately following the tragedy. She also shared her concern for her son's recovery over the loss of his father. She said she hoped that her son could also recognize that he was a good man through this. Unfortunately, I did not speak with Heather directly. However, she was quoted in a few sources that essentially had this common theme around her feelings about Richard Brady. I did attempt to locate her without success. So, Heather, or any spokesperson for Richard Brady, if you do hear this episode or if this episode somehow lands in your inbox one day, and you would like to add anything about Richard you think is important to his legacy, we would be happy to assist with that. Although any addition will miss this release, it can be included in our future rest up episodes, edit updates, as well as on our website under episode updates. We can appreciate the value in ensuring Richard's children carry an understanding that there are people who recognize what their father tried to do for a woman in an unsafe space. This act speaks volumes on his character. Although the outcome that day, of course, was a worst-case scenario that is a risk from helping someone in need of safety. However, it does not negate his intention and who he was. I can't help but wonder how different things might look if more men challenged other men at the first sign of abuse or controlling behavior. The man who killed Veronica believed he had the right to make that choice. Violence like that doesn't happen in a vacuum. Sometimes the warning signs are minimized or dismissed with phrases like, that's just who he is. Those moments matter. Red flags deserve to be taken seriously because accountability often begins long before a crime is committed. So now I will step off my soapbox and offer our genuine and heartfelt condolences to Richard Brady's children and his surviving family members. We can still recognize who he was. As for Veronica Lopez, she was only 24 years old. She was a phenomenal athlete and had been a sponsored and then professional skateboarder. I don't have the specifics around these details, but it is widely known, and I will add her IG account in our show notes. She has skating clips on her page, and her bio mentions makeup and skateboarding. And this is what drew me to Veronica. I watched many clips of her skateboarding, and like many women, have also participated in male-dominated sports. I know her competitive spirit without knowing her. She wasn't just a good female skater. Although reading some of the men commenting their insecurities under some of her clips, you would think it was a thing. Insert eye roll here. Veronica was so good on a board. She was powerful and controlled and confident, and her joy while she was skating was visible. If you've ever skated or even really watched someone you care about skate and learn a new trick, you understand how many concrete crashes it can take to perfect one. You have to be committed, athletic, focused, and talented to reach the level she did. Domestic violence doesn't discriminate. It doesn't care if you're confident, independent, athletic, outspoken, successful, conventionally beautiful, rich, poor, or someone who has spent years proving yourself in a male-dominated environment. Abuse isn't a measure of a victim's strength. Let me repeat that. Because it matters. Abuse is not a measure of a victim's strength. It can happen to anyone. The moment I saw Veronica's story, I was deeply affected. She was much younger than I am, but she could have been one of my friends. Veronica was only 24 years old. She was the youngest of five daughters, and she was known by her family as someone who brought happiness into every room she entered. She had a passion for skateboarding that carried her far beyond a hobby or interest. She was also a devoted San Francisco 49ers fan, rarely missing an opportunity to cheer on her team. Veronica was also stunning, an absolute beauty. Veronica's sister Sabrina was kind enough to respond to me when I reached out. I asked her about Veronica skating and when she started. Sabrina told me she picked up a board when she was around 12 and was at the park every day with a friend group she hung out with. I also asked her about being a 49ers fan, knowing that Veronica was an LA lady. And I wondered if her family gave her a hard time about that. And Sabrina said it was actually a family thing, that they all lived and died as fans. The way she wrote it was somehow poetic and layered in pride, like a common thread that tied the family, and she knew it always would. She was also kind enough to share more on her sister, whom she clearly loved deeply. ML, I was wondering if you would mind reading those. Of course, I would love to. That's awesome.

SPEAKER_00 13:36

My sister was one of the most beautiful souls to ever walk this earth. She was beautiful inside and out, and there was something about her that drew people in. Her smile could light up an entire room, and her presence brought a warmth that made everyone around her feel welcome. Her laugh was contagious, the kind that made everyone else laugh right along with her. She had a quiet strength about her. She lived a private life and preferred to keep it that way. But if you were lucky enough to know her, you know how deeply she loved. No matter what she was going through, she was always showing up for the people she cared about. She carried so much on her shoulders, yet she never let that stop her from being there for others. She loved life, she loved to travel, to sing, to dance, and she was incredibly talented in so many ways. She lived life on her own terms unapologetically. Once she made up her mind, there was no changing it. She had a free spirit that couldn't be contained, and that was one of the many things that made her so special. I only wish she knew how much she was worth. I wish she could have seen herself through the eyes of the people who loved her. She deserved so much more than what she settled for, and she deserved the chance to experience all the beautiful things life still had waiting for her. She was only 24 years old. She was just getting started. There were still so many places she wanted to see, so many dreams left to chase, and so much life left to live. The future should have been hers. She leaves behind a space that can never be filled. While her life was taken far too soon, the love she gave, the memory she created, and the light she brought into the world will live on forever. I will carry her with me for the rest of my life, and I will never stop speaking her name. She wasn't just my baby's sister. She was a light, a blessing, and one of the greatest gifts this world had the privilege of knowing. I will miss her every single day.

SPEAKER_01 15:38

Researching through crime has taught me one thing. Sometimes the smallest detail changes everything. That's probably why I love Fun Facts Code. Their games are packed with interesting facts and little pieces of knowledge that make you look at the world a little differently. It's a fun break between the heavier stories we cover here on Corridor of Crime, and I think you'll enjoy it as much as I do. If you'd like to check them out, use my affiliate link in the show notes. It helps support the podcast, and who knows, you might discover your next favorite fact. Those closest to Veronica knew she had been living in an abusive relationship. Most of them had urged her repeatedly to get out. If you understand the cycle of abuse, you may understand how difficult this actually is. To simply get out. It is also difficult to help someone leave a domestic violence situation unless they are ready. It's also painful to watch someone you love stay in that cycle and be harmed. I will share a few statistics on domestic violence because it doesn't feel right to cover a case such as this without a few. On average, it takes seven attempts before a victim leaves their abuser, according to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence. I want to be clear, that does not mean it takes everyone seven tries. This is an average. Leaving is a process and not an event. Some victims leave the first time. Some require more than seven attempts. The most dangerous time for a victim is during separation, or rather, an attempt to leave. And those who love Veronica believe this is exactly what she was trying to do when she was killed. Domestic violence rarely begins with a headline. It often begins quietly. After the honeymoon phase, there are the apologies and promises, the isolation and nervous system deregulation that keeps the victim so exhausted that they have little energy to do much more than survive. And of course, there is also self-doubt from the gaslighting they've likely experienced, and then the intense and unpredictable fear. By the time outsiders realize how dangerous things have become, victims have often spent months or years trying to survive circumstances few people truly understand. In the days before her death, Veronica had reached out to a friend after another argument. She was trying to navigate her relationship that had become increasingly volatile. As previously mentioned, Veronica's family believed she was trying to leave her abuser at the time of her death. Veronica's mother, Sheila Lopez, said that Veronica had called her at work right before her death, and she told her daughter that she would have to call her back. And when she did, Veronica did not answer. Then, as the pursuit unfolded live on television, Veronica's family had no idea they were watching the final chapter of her story until they recognized the black Kia and saw her dog in the sedan. In an instant, everything changed. They called the Pomona Police Department, and the heartbreaking truth was later confirmed. Meanwhile, the California Highway Patrol brought the nearly 90-minute pursuit to an end using spike strips followed by a pit maneuver, taking Galtman into custody without further loss of life. In the days that followed, he appeared in court wearing a suicide prevention safety gown. His bail was ultimately revoked, and his arraignment was postponed as the criminal case continues. Veronica Lopez was only 24 years old. She was a daughter, a sister, a former professional skateboarder, a lifelong 49ers fan, and someone whose family says she made everyone around her feel loved. Richard Brady was a father, a neighbor, and by every account, someone who stepped in when another person needed help. Their lives deserve to be remembered for more than the violence that ended them. If there's anything to take away from the story, it's this domestic violence doesn't discriminate, and leaving can be the most dangerous time. Veronica's story changed ours. So beginning today, we are launching a new section on our website called GDDV, or God damn it DV. It isn't the most polished name, but it's an honest one because every time I cover another life stolen by domestic violence, that's exactly what I find myself saying. There you'll find statistics, warning signs, safety resources, and organizations that can help. If it helps even one person recognize the signs or find a way to safety, then it's worth every minute I spend building it. I believe that Veronica changed lives and made a deep impact on everyone she came in contact with. And if you know me, you know what a compliment that is for me to give. That being said, our deepest and most heartfelt condolences to Veronica's family and friends. Our thoughts are truly with you. Sabrina, thank you for allowing us to share your words. Your love for your sister comes through in every sentence, and we hope our listeners walk away remembering not just what happened to her, but who she was. Thanks so much for listening. All of our sources are in the show notes. Please find a full list and our affiliate links at Corridorofcrime.com. We'd love for you to follow us on social media at Corridor of Crime on the platform of your choice. We'd appreciate it if you'd consider liking, rating, and subscribing to allow us to keep putting content out. Corridor of Crime is hosted and produced by Sarah L and ML Browning. Executive produced by Sarah L. And music is composed by Matthew Langden Music. We will see you at the next exit. Until then, don't forget to buckle up and remember to always check your blind spots.