he Call That Didn’t Make Sense

One fact is beyond dispute: Charlie didn’t make just two phone calls that day. He made three. One of them was to Elizabeth McCoy—Mikey McCoy’s wife—who, according to witnesses, was screaming at the office. That alone raises questions. Because what it tells us is simple: we are not being told the full truth. Not the sensible truth. Not the complete truth.

My name is Mikey McCoy. I had the unique honor, blessing, and privilege of a lifetime to call Charlie not just a friend, but a mentor. I traveled with him constantly.

And today, Mikey McCoy—the same man—has reportedly been receiving death threats.

Let’s start here.

Candace Owens is not someone who casually throws around serious allegations. She has built her career on confronting powerful people, but she has also shown restraint—knowing when to push forward and when to hold back. That’s why, when Candace publicly connects Mikey McCoy to what she calls a “hire-for-murder cult,” it demands attention.

This wasn’t clickbait. This wasn’t hyperbole. Candace made it clear: she believes she uncovered something genuinely disturbing. And whether you agree with her politics or not, a claim of that magnitude deserves a closer look.

So let’s take that look.

The Footage That Changed Everything

Candace didn’t begin with speculation. She began with video footage from the day Charlie Kirk was shot.

What’s striking is what she didn’t focus on.

She wasn’t obsessed with the shooter. She didn’t zoom in on the weapon or analyze angles of fire. Her attention was somewhere else entirely.

She was watching Mikey McCoy.

Not what he said afterward. Not his role. Not even his grief.

She was watching his reaction in real time, at the exact moment Charlie collapsed to the ground.

Picture this.

You’re standing just feet away from someone. Gunfire erupts. That person drops. Most people would freeze, scream, duck, or panic. You might rush toward the victim. You might run. But you would react—visibly, instinctively, emotionally.

Here’s what Candace noticed.

The moment Charlie falls, Mikey lifts a phone to his ear—almost instantly. He does not turn back toward Charlie. He does not scan the area for danger. He does not shout or hesitate.

He makes a call.

And then he walks away.

In less than a second, he puts the phone to his ear and begins a conversation.

To Candace—and to many who’ve watched the footage since—this doesn’t look like shock. It looks rehearsed. Controlled. Deeply unnatural.

A Story That Doesn’t Match the Evidence

Shortly after the shooting, Mikey’s father, Pastor Rob McCoy, addressed his congregation. He described what happened that day and said Mikey called him immediately after Charlie was hit.

He added a specific detail: Mikey had blood on his shirt.

That sounds credible—until you check the footage.

No video shows blood on Mikey. None.

And when the timeline is reviewed, the phone call Pastor McCoy described does not align with what’s visible on camera.

Now we have two problems.

Mikey’s behavior doesn’t match normal human reactions to gunfire.

Pastor McCoy’s account doesn’t match the evidence.

These are not minor discrepancies. For Candace, they weren’t the conclusion—they were the entry point.

Digging Deeper: A Pattern Emerges

Candace did what investigative journalists do. She looked into the background.

What she found added an entirely new dimension.

Pastor Rob McCoy had previously allowed a convicted child molester to work with children at his church. Not only that—he gave this individual a platform on his podcast and publicly defended him, claiming the conviction was unjust.

Defending someone you believe is innocent isn’t inherently wrong. But when it involves child safety—and when the person has been legally convicted—platforming them raises serious questions.

Questions about judgment.
Questions about loyalty.
Questions about who is being protected—and why.

At this point, Candace began to see something larger. Not isolated incidents. A pattern.

And patterns suggest structure.

She asked:
What if this isn’t coincidence?
What if this isn’t bad optics?
What if these people, these decisions, and these deaths are connected?

Because Charlie was not the only person in this circle who ended up dead.

That’s when the word network entered the conversation.

The Phone Call That Came Too Early

Candace slowed the footage down. She built a timeline. She removed emotion and focused only on sequence.

And then she noticed something chilling.

Mikey McCoy appears to lift his phone before the gunshot.

According to Candace’s analysis, the movement begins 1.45 seconds before Charlie is hit.

If that timing is accurate, this wasn’t a reaction.

It was foreknowledge.

Other commentators independently reviewed the footage and reached the same conclusion. Once is a claim. Multiple independent analyses are a pattern.

This does not prove Mikey pulled the trigger.
It does not prove he knew the shooter.

But it raises a critical question:

What did Mikey know—and when did he know it?

Missing Footage and a Convenient Suspect

Then there’s Tyler Robinson, the alleged shooter.

According to official reports, he turned himself in.

Yet there is zero footage of this moment.

No surveillance video. No corrupted file. No technical glitch.

When pressed, authorities offered multiple explanations:

The footage doesn’t exist.

It was deleted.

It can’t be released.

It was purged after 30 days.

Each time, a different answer.

In a high-profile case, in 2025, with modern surveillance systems, this absence isn’t an oversight.

It’s a decision.

Candace’s theory is provocative: What if Tyler Robinson wasn’t even on campus that day? What if he’s simply convenient—a name to close the case and stop questions?

The Whistleblower and the Final Line

Then came the whistleblower email.

Live on her show, Candace read it—and stopped.

She paused. Took a breath. Her expression changed.

The email allegedly implicated federal agencies—the FBI, Secret Service, DEA—not rogue actors, but institutions.

That’s not an accusation made lightly.

But Candace didn’t back down.

She suggested Charlie discovered something dangerous. Something powerful people didn’t want exposed. And that discovery may have cost him his life.

Blackmail. Trafficking. Political targeting. A structured, organized network operating behind religious and nonprofit fronts.

This wasn’t about one murder anymore.

It was about a system.

The Question That Remains

Missing footage.
Contradictory timelines.
Unnatural behavior.
Conflicting statements.
Institutional silence.

Individually, these could be dismissed.
Together, they form a pattern.

Candace ended with a warning:

“We cannot live in a world where governments collude to protect Epstein and murder Charlie Kirk.”

So here’s the question that remains:

Was Mikey McCoy simply in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Or was he part of something far darker—something operating behind closed doors, beyond public scrutiny?

I don’t have the answer.

But the evidence suggests we should be asking.

And next, when we examine the hospital timeline, things get even stranger.