Exotic Dancer Angie Barlow Was Murdered After Receiving an Anonymous Text About a Gig

It was completely out of character for Angie Barlow to go radio silent.

The 23-year-old exotic dancer never parted ways with her phone and would routinely check in with friends and family.

So, when her best friend and roommate, Mona Jackson, couldn’t get ahold of Barlow the morning after she danced at a private party in Indianapolis, Jackson knew something was terribly wrong.

“I just went over there and jumped the fence,” Jackson tells A&E Crime + Investigation.

When Barlow arrived at the Landmark Apartments & Townhomes the night before on October 26, 2016, she sent Jackson her location, followed by an eerie text: “'Doing a private party at this address just in case I go missing lol.'"

It was the last text Jackson would receive from her best friend.

Eight months later, Barlow turned up dead.

At just under 5 feet tall, Barlow was a force to be reckoned with.

“She refused to let anybody put her down,” her mom, Christina Kramer, tells A&E Crime + Investigation. “She did not put up with anything.”

The headstrong, self-assured entertainer dropped out of high school during her senior year and decided to pursue a career in exotic dancing at Club Rio in Indianapolis, although her mother wasn’t too thrilled. After all, it could be a dangerous profession.

“I didn’t support what she did, but I did support her,” Kramer explains. “She loved what she did. She loved the money, she liked the attention, and I hate to say it, but she was good at it.”

The quick cash was thrilling, and after going on an extravagant getaway to Miami, her daughter “came back broke, needed some money,” Kramer remembers.

And just like that, a text from an anonymous woman came through on Barlow’s phone, requesting she perform at a private, surprise anniversary party for her husband.

“The opportunity was there, and she thought it was going to be an easy way to make $500,” Kramer says.

Barlow had no idea at whose party she’d be dancing, but she was intrigued.

She told her best friend about her plans and showed her the text from the mysterious number.

“I automatically said, ‘No girl, this don't even sound right. I don't feel this, the vibe is off,’” Jackson recalls.

But Barlow had already made up her mind, and she showed up to perform for her secret clients at their apartment complex that night.

She never made it out alive.

“Detectives believe that she was killed at the party,” Kramer says.

The Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department (IMPD) confirmed Barlow’s case remains active and open but declined A&E Crime + Investigation’s request for comment.

Panic struck after Barlow’s loved ones couldn’t get in touch with her the day after the party, so Jackson and a couple of their girlfriends met up at her last known location to investigate.

The building had controlled access, forcing the girls to wait for anyone to open the door.

“The neighbor that lived next door [to the party hosts] came out, and he was like, ‘They moved out,’” Jackson says. “I knew immediately something was wrong.”

Kramer instantly filed a missing person’s report and personally called her daughter’s anonymous client, whose contact info was captured in a screenshot the night before.

The phone number reportedly turned out to belong to a woman named Raven Miller.

According to Kramer, there was known tension between her daughter and Miller over a man named Baron McCullough, who they both dated at one point. They all knew each other through Club Rio.

"There were issues," Det. Jose Torres of the IMPD previously confirmed to Crime Watch Daily in 2017. "To the point where Angela would not have done this private party if she had known it was Raven and Baron that were throwing it."

Miller reportedly admitted that Barlow was at her apartment till 3 a.m., that morning, but “left with some guy,” Kramer recalls.

Surveillance footage from outside the apartment around that time captured Barlow’s car leaving the complex with Miller’s vehicle following closely behind.

However, police were unable to make out the drivers behind either vehicle.

"I believe yes, she was tricked to come to this location," Torres said.

Miller and McCullough were identified as persons of interest and brought in for questioning, but with no solid evidence connecting them to Barlow’s disappearance, they were let go.

A&E Crime + Investigation reached out to Miller and McCullough, but they did not respond to requests for comment.

Twelve days later, police recovered Barlow’s car abandoned in a neighborhood less than 10 miles from where she vanished. It was visibly wrecked, Kramer says.

Still, her daughter was nowhere to be found.

Eight months later, an anonymous tip came through Crime Stoppers telling police where they could find Barlow’s body.

“She was found buried in a wooded area on the east side of Indianapolis,” Kramer says. “It was behind a backyard between two property lines.”

She remembers identifying her daughter’s remains at the coroner’s office.

“I was in shock, and I just started crying,” she recalls. “And I knew from one tattoo that it was her.”

Kramer says her daughter was shot to death before her body was disposed of in a makeshift grave five feet under.

“I can't even say that it was a relief that she was found because when you identify what’s left of your child's remains, in that moment, you know that you're never going to see them again, that they're never coming home,” Kramer confesses.

Despite the recovery of her body, Barlow’s case remains unsolved, and her killer or killers remain on the loose.

“It’s hard living every day because no justice has been served,” Jackson admits.

In addition to her best friend, Barlow left behind her parents, three younger sisters and a Yorkie named Pablo.

“They’re [the people responsible] still out there living their best lives, but their day will come,” Jackson adds. “This matter is in God's hands because if it would’ve been in my hands, it would have gone another way.”

To Barlow’s grieving mom, justice would be the death penalty.

“I want them to count down the days, the hours, the minutes and the seconds that they have left to live, just like they gave my daughter moments to do,” she says.