The atmosphere inside the Tampa, Florida, courtroom was thick with tension, a palpable sense of gravity hanging over the proceedings. At the center of the drama sat Aaliyah Andrews, a 22-year-old woman facing the crushing weight of a mandatory life sentence. Her alleged crime: being a critical, active, and indispensable player in the brutal, orchestrated murder of Jacksonville rapper Charles Jones, known to the world as Foolio.

What began as a joyous celebration for the rapper’s 26th birthday on June 23, 2024, spiraled into a chilling narrative of targeted surveillance, cold-blooded planning, and a violent ambush that left Jones dead in a hail of gunfire. The subsequent trial against Andrews has laid bare a modern-day conspiracy, meticulously tracked by a web of digital breadcrumbs that prosecutors argue leaves virtually no room for doubt.

Assistant State Attorney Scott Harmon, in a methodical and comprehensive presentation, detailed what he characterized as a “mountain of evidence” against Andrews. This was no crime of opportunity, Harmon argued, but a carefully orchestrated, tactical operation carried out by a crew of five conspirators, transforming Jones’ public birthday plans into a fatal roadmap.

The Anatomy of an Orchestrated Hit

The evidence presented paints a picture of pre-planning that began days before the execution. Andrews, according to prosecutors, initiated the process by messaging about booking an Airbnb in Tampa on June 21, 2024—two days prior to the murder. This wasn’t casual vacation planning, the state contended, but the first move in establishing a “base of operations” for what would become a deadly assignment.

The planning went far beyond securing temporary lodging. The prosecution established that the crew—Andrews, her boyfriend Isiah Chance, Shawn Gathright, Rashad Murphy, and Davian Murphy—prepped with a level of detail typically associated with organized crime. They obtained “uniforms,” “disguises,” including all-black clothing, balaclavas, ski masks, and COVID masks. Weapons were “selected, loaded and modified,” underscoring the premeditated nature of the violence to come. Andrews herself was captured on surveillance footage wearing a black COVID mask while her co-conspirator, Chance, wore a blue one.

A core component of the plot was the sophisticated two-vehicle coordination, a strategy that straight-up contradicts any claim of innocent involvement. The crew utilized:

The Assault Whip:

A black Chevy Impala, registered to Cathwright’s mother, which carried the primary shooters.

The Surveillance Whip:

A rented silver Chevy Cruz, obtained specifically to avoid recognition, serving as the reconnaissance vehicle.

This dual-vehicle approach was designed for maximum efficiency and anonymity, allowing the crew to track, observe, and strike without alerting their target.

The Stalking: From Nightclub to Death Trap

Foolio had tragically and faithfully advertised his birthday events publicly on social media, including appearances at Club Teasers and an afterparty at Truth 18. This simple act of celebrating his life provided the conspirators with the exact intelligence they needed.

This is where Andrews’ role became undeniable. Around 1:40 a.m. on June 23, surveillance footage shows Andrews, Chance, and Davian Murphy leaving the Airbnb in the Cruz. Video from a McDonald’s drive-thru, where the group stopped for food, clearly showed Andrews in the passenger seat, an image she later reluctantly identified as herself to police—a crucial admission that contradicted her earlier claims of being out alone because she was hungry.

The surveillance intensified as Andrews and Chance, both disguised in masks and hoodies, conducted foot reconnaissance at both Club Teasers and Truth 18. Prosecutors argued they were “deliberately blending in as a couple for camouflage,” providing a second set of eyes for the operation.

The coordination was chillingly precise. The Impala carrying the shooters arrived at Teaser’s at 2:47 a.m. and entered the parking lot from the north to avoid detection—precisely as Jones left the venue. This was not coincidence; it was the direct result of “real-time intelligence being provided by lookouts who are tracking their target’s every movement,” the prosecution stressed.

The digital chain around Andrews tightened further with cell tower data, which placed her phone at the clubs, the McDonald’s, and crucially, at the murder scene itself. Her phone pinged the tower at the Home 2 Suites by Hilton on McKinley Drive at 4:40 a.m., placing her immediately adjacent to the location where Foolio would be ambushed moments later.

The Ambush: A Hail of Fire

Around 4:30 a.m., Jones and his entourage arrived at the Home 2 Suites. Surveillance cameras—including hotel security footage and a nearby Tesla’s Sentry mode—captured what amounted to a video record of a murder-in-progress. Foolio was in the front passenger seat of a Dodge Charger, his feet “casually propped up on the dashboard,” completely unaware of the fate awaiting him just feet away.

The Cruz, with Andrews inside, entered the parking lot first, making a reconnaissance U-turn and passing within feet of where the Impala was hidden in the shadows. Once the target was confirmed, the three shooters—Gathright and Davian Murphy carrying AR-style rifles, and Rashad Murphy wielding a fully automatic Glock—exited the Impala. Dressed in “all-black ninja disguises,” they moved with practiced precision to pre-planned positions and unleashed an “overwhelming barrage of firepower,” firing over 50 bullets.

Trapped like a sitting duck, Jones was struck three times, tearing through his heart, lungs, aorta, and liver. He died instantly at the scene. The chaos wounded three others and shattered hotel windows, endangering families, tourists, and a university orientation group who found themselves inadvertently in the middle of what the state termed a “gang warfare execution.” The meticulousness extended to the crime scene: no rifle casings were left, thanks to brass catchers, though 31 9-mm casings from the Glock were recovered.

The Catastrophic Failure of Defense

Perhaps the most damning evidence against Andrews emerged from her own mouth during police interrogations. After the shooting, the group returned to the Airbnb, captured on Ring camera footage unloading their gear. Andrews, Chance, and Rashad Murphy then took an Uber back to Jacksonville.

When interviewed, Andrews repeatedly lied, denying any involvement. However, in what her defense strategist would likely consider a catastrophic failure, she eventually identified herself in all relevant footage, confirming her presence at Teasers, Truth 18, and the Home 2 Suites parking lot. She admitted that Chance was driving the surveillance whip and that she allowed him to use her phone to communicate with Gathright during the tracking phase.

Her explanation—that she and Chance were merely inquiring about party entry fees and were at the hotel parking lot because they were lost—was quickly exposed by surveillance footage. The prosecution hammered the point: when someone lies about easily verifiable facts, it raises the obvious question: what else are they lying about? The combined evidence—pre-planning, vehicle coordination, cell tower data placing her phone at every relevant location, her own admissions, and her repeated lies—created an airtight, devastating narrative.

The Desperate Plea: A Victim of Love

Facing a case built on a technological foundation that seemed unshakeable, the defense team, led by attorney Life Malcolm, faced a Herculean task: how to create reasonable doubt.

Malcolm’s strategy was to reframe the entire narrative, to transform Alicia Andrews from a calculated conspirator into a “naive, manipulated young woman” who was nothing more than an innocent victim of circumstances and an abusive relationship.

“Alicia Andrews did not know any of those men in that group, and none of those men in that group knew Alicia Andrews,” Malcolm asserted, attempting to sever her connection to the core conspiracy and any gang activities. He argued she viewed the trip as a “simple weekend getaway” to reconcile with her “on-again, off-again” boyfriend, Isaiah Chance.

The defense focused on the complete absence of physical forensic evidence: no fingerprints, no DNA, no connection whatsoever to the AR-style rifles or the modified Glock. They highlighted that Andrews was not dressed in the “all black disguises” or “ninjas in hoods and masks” worn by the shooters, suggesting she wasn’t prepared for a covert, military-style operation.

Most compellingly, and perhaps most desperately, Malcolm sought to humanize Andrews by portraying her relationship with Chance as controlling, threatening, and psychologically abusive. Though the judge had ruled formal evidence of domestic violence inadmissible, the defense clearly alluded to it, attempting to explain her actions as stemming from the coercion and fear of a manipulated partner rather than the willingness of a co-conspirator. Her repeated lies to police, Malcolm contended, were not a “consciousness of guilt,” but a natural reaction of “confusion and fear” from a young woman caught up in something far beyond her comprehension.

Despite the powerful rhetoric, the defense’s emotional counter-narrative must contend with the cold, hard facts of the digital age. In this case, the modern tools of detection—cell tower pings, license plate readers, and relentless video surveillance—have created an undisputed, time-stamped record of her movements. The jury must now decide if this mountain of evidence proves active participation in a murder, or if the emotional argument of a young woman manipulated by an abusive boyfriend is enough to overcome the digital chain of custody that placed her at the heart of the execution. The mandatory life sentence for Andrews hangs heavy on the scales of justice.