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The Divorce That Should’ve Been Over: How a Clerical Error Preceded the Murders of Monique Tepe and Michael McKee

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The divorce case between accused killer surgeon Michael McKee and his slain ex-wife, Monique Tepe — which was finalized years ago — was mistakenly revived just months before McKee allegedly gunned down Tepe and her new husband in their Ohio home.

McKee and Tepe were married in August 2015 and officially divorced in May 2017, but the case received a new hearing that appeared on the docket in June 2025, according to USA Today.

It showed a trial date set for September, but court officials later confirmed that the revival of the case was a clerical error with the docket number, and the September date was canceled, the paper reported.

AD

Dr. and Mrs. McKee holding hands at their wedding.
Monique Tepe and Michael McKee were married in August 2015 and officially divorced in May 2017.Facebook/Phyllis Williams

A man and a woman, Spencer and Monique Tepe, embrace and smile at the camera with palm trees and water in the background.
Slain couple Monique Tepe and Spencer Tepe were married in December 2020.Courtesy Rob Misleh

McKee and Tepe’s divorce seemed mundane and civil at the time, according to court records. However, family members have spoken out since the killings, saying McKee would “torment” Tepe during their short marriage.

“Differences have arisen between the parties, and they are now living separate and apart from each other,” their separation agreement, filed on April 28, 2017, stated.

In the divorce, McKee kept the couple’s $230,000 home in Roanoke, Virginia, where he was working on his residency. The home and mortgage were both solely in his name, USA Today reported.

Neither was ordered to pay spousal support and they each kept their own vehicles and their own debts, according to the agreement.

The pair had no children together and Monique Tepe, 39, married her new husband, dentist Spencer Tepe, 37, in December 2020.

McKee, 39, has been charged in the Tepes’ murders after he allegedly snuck into their Columbus home on Dec. 30 and shot them dead in their bedroom, leaving their two children, ages 4 and 1, unharmed in another room, cops said.

Booking photo of Michael David McKee.
Michael David McKee allegedly killed his ex-wife, Monique Tepe, and her second husband in their Ohio home.AP
The vascular surgeon was arrested more than a week later some 325 miles away in Rockford, Illinois, after police traced his car to the scene the night of the murders.

Columbus Police Chief Elaine Bryant on Wednesday described the killings as a “targeted” domestic violence attack and revealed police discovered the gun believed to have been used in the murders at McKee’s residence.

Investigators have not determined a motive in the killings.

McKee is awaiting extradition to Ohio to face trial.

He defied Air Traffic Control and landed on a restricted military base to save one dying passenger. The FAA suspended him within hours. Two days later, Air Force One landed at his tiny airport… and everything changed. “Control, this is Flight 447. I have a medical emergency. Request immediate clearance to land at Fairfield Air Force Base.” Captain Jake Morrison’s voice was steady — even as chaos erupted behind the cockpit door. “Negative, 447. Fairfield AFB is restricted. Continue to Denver International.” Forty minutes to Denver. Seven minutes to Fairfield. And seat 12A was already in cardiac arrest. A middle-aged man traveling under the name Robert Wilson had collapsed mid-flight. Face gray. Pulse fading. Flight attendant Karen was on the floor performing CPR while passengers screamed and oxygen masks swayed. Thirty minutes earlier, that same passenger had quietly handed her a card. “If anything happens,” he’d said calmly, “call this number. Tell them Admiral Wilson is down.” Admiral. Karen thought he was confused. Now the card felt heavier than the defibrillator in her hands. Back in the cockpit, the tower’s warning was crystal clear: “Any deviation will result in investigation and immediate suspension of your license.” Jake looked at the radar. Looked at the clock. Then he made the call. “I’m declaring an emergency. Passenger is in cardiac arrest. Fairfield is seven minutes away. I’m making an unauthorized approach.” His co-pilot stared at him. “Jake… that’s a career-ending move.” “Not if he dies,” Jake replied. He banked the aircraft toward restricted airspace. Fighter escort was mentioned. FAA penalties were guaranteed. But the wheels touched down at Fairfield Air Force Base anyway. Within hours, Jake’s license was suspended. News outlets called it reckless. Until 48 hours later — when Air Force One touched down at Jake’s small regional airport. And the man from seat 12A stepped off alive. Full story in the comments 👇
He defied Air Traffic Control and landed on a restricted military base to save one dying passenger. The FAA suspended him within hours. Two days later, Air Force One landed at his tiny airport… and everything changed. “Control, this is Flight 447. I have a medical emergency. Request immediate clearance to land at Fairfield Air Force Base.” Captain Jake Morrison’s voice was steady — even as chaos erupted behind the cockpit door. “Negative, 447. Fairfield AFB is restricted. Continue to Denver International.” Forty minutes to Denver. Seven minutes to Fairfield. And seat 12A was already in cardiac arrest. A middle-aged man traveling under the name Robert Wilson had collapsed mid-flight. Face gray. Pulse fading. Flight attendant Karen was on the floor performing CPR while passengers screamed and oxygen masks swayed. Thirty minutes earlier, that same passenger had quietly handed her a card. “If anything happens,” he’d said calmly, “call this number. Tell them Admiral Wilson is down.” Admiral. Karen thought he was confused. Now the card felt heavier than the defibrillator in her hands. Back in the cockpit, the tower’s warning was crystal clear: “Any deviation will result in investigation and immediate suspension of your license.” Jake looked at the radar. Looked at the clock. Then he made the call. “I’m declaring an emergency. Passenger is in cardiac arrest. Fairfield is seven minutes away. I’m making an unauthorized approach.” His co-pilot stared at him. “Jake… that’s a career-ending move.” “Not if he dies,” Jake replied. He banked the aircraft toward restricted airspace. Fighter escort was mentioned. FAA penalties were guaranteed. But the wheels touched down at Fairfield Air Force Base anyway. Within hours, Jake’s license was suspended. News outlets called it reckless. Until 48 hours later — when Air Force One touched down at Jake’s small regional airport. And the man from seat 12A stepped off alive. Full story in the comments 👇

Pilot Made Unauthorized Landing to Save Passenger, Got Suspended, 2 Days Later, Air Force One Landed! In the…

“Stop hitting that dog — or I’ll end your badge.” That’s what I told the deputy behind a quiet little gas station in Oak Grove… right before his sheriff pulled up smiling. Kaiser was chained to a rusted post in the dirt. Ribs showing. Water bowl bone-dry. Raw skin carved into his neck where the chain had bitten too deep. Deputy Grant Malloy stood over him, tapping a baton against his palm like he was bored. “Still breathing,” he muttered. I wasn’t from Oak Grove. Just passing through with my own K9 partner, Diesel — a retired military working dog who knows the smell of fear better than most humans. Diesel saw Kaiser and went still. Not aggressive. Not barking. Recognizing. “You’re starving him,” I said. Malloy shrugged. “Evidence. Nobody’s dog now.” That’s when I started recording. He didn’t like that. The baton came down fast — caught my wrist — sent my phone flying into the dirt. Cameras at the gas pumps definitely caught the swing. “You just assaulted a civilian,” I told him calmly. “And tried to destroy evidence.” He grinned. “In Oak Grove? I decide what’s evidence.” Then the patrol SUV rolled in. No lights. No siren. Sheriff Calvin Rourke stepped out like he owned the ground. He glanced at the dog. At me. Then smiled. “That dog stays,” he said. “And you’re going to delete whatever you filmed… if you value your freedom.” I looked at the chain cutting into Kaiser’s neck. Looked at the dried blood on the sheriff’s sleeve. And then I noticed something else. The harness strap didn’t say Kaiser. It said Hollis. And I’d heard that name before — tied to a missing person report that vanished from state records two weeks ago. That’s when I realized this wasn’t about animal cruelty. It was about a cover-up. And they’d just picked the wrong witness. Full story in the comments 👇
“Stop hitting that dog — or I’ll end your badge.” That’s what I told the deputy behind a quiet little gas station in Oak Grove… right before his sheriff pulled up smiling. Kaiser was chained to a rusted post in the dirt. Ribs showing. Water bowl bone-dry. Raw skin carved into his neck where the chain had bitten too deep. Deputy Grant Malloy stood over him, tapping a baton against his palm like he was bored. “Still breathing,” he muttered. I wasn’t from Oak Grove. Just passing through with my own K9 partner, Diesel — a retired military working dog who knows the smell of fear better than most humans. Diesel saw Kaiser and went still. Not aggressive. Not barking. Recognizing. “You’re starving him,” I said. Malloy shrugged. “Evidence. Nobody’s dog now.” That’s when I started recording. He didn’t like that. The baton came down fast — caught my wrist — sent my phone flying into the dirt. Cameras at the gas pumps definitely caught the swing. “You just assaulted a civilian,” I told him calmly. “And tried to destroy evidence.” He grinned. “In Oak Grove? I decide what’s evidence.” Then the patrol SUV rolled in. No lights. No siren. Sheriff Calvin Rourke stepped out like he owned the ground. He glanced at the dog. At me. Then smiled. “That dog stays,” he said. “And you’re going to delete whatever you filmed… if you value your freedom.” I looked at the chain cutting into Kaiser’s neck. Looked at the dried blood on the sheriff’s sleeve. And then I noticed something else. The harness strap didn’t say Kaiser. It said Hollis. And I’d heard that name before — tied to a missing person report that vanished from state records two weeks ago. That’s when I realized this wasn’t about animal cruelty. It was about a cover-up. And they’d just picked the wrong witness. Full story in the comments 👇

“‘Stop Hitting That Dog—or I’ll End Your Badge.’ — The Gas Station Rescue That Brought Down Sheriff Rourke’s…