In the quiet suburbs of America, where the promise of digital connection has replaced old-fashioned courtship, a chilling and lethal new criminal pattern has emerged. The perpetrators are not hardened criminals, but teenage girls, using the apparent innocence of their youth and the trust inherent in dating applications to lure unsuspecting victims into deadly ambushes. These cases shatter the notion that girls are inherently less capable of calculated violence, exposing a cold, predatory model where a flirtatious message is merely a preamble to armed robbery, a near-fatal shooting, or, in the most devastating instance, premeditated murder.

This harrowing trend is perhaps best illuminated by two separate but chillingly similar cases that played out in Florida and Georgia. Both involved young women using the lure of a romantic meeting to set up their male victims, resulting in two distinct but equally devastating outcomes that left families grieving and communities reeling from the shock that such cold-blooded malice could hide behind a youthful face.

The South Daytona Ambush: A Bullet for a Meetup

The first case unfolded in South Daytona, Florida, in February 2016. At the center was Keandrea Cook, then just 18 years old. Cook chose the dating application MeetMe to select her target, 27-year-old Perry Nidita, arranging a supposed hookup on a quiet, unsuspecting street. The supposed date, however, was a meticulously orchestrated trap for an armed robbery, set with her accomplice, Kendrick Bass.

When Nidita and his friend, Emmanuel Purscell, a 17-year-old high school student, arrived, the situation immediately turned violent. As Purscell stepped out of the vehicle, a gunshot tore through the air. The bullet struck Emmanuel Purscell in the stomach, leaving the young man fighting for his life.

The crime was brutal, swift, and seemingly senseless, targeting the victims simply for cash and the vehicle. Police were quickly able to unravel the plot, tracing the digital trail left on the dating app and gathering witness accounts of the ambush. Cook was arrested and charged with principal to carjacking with a deadly weapon, attempted carjacking, and aggravated battery.

The aftermath of the ambush was agonizing for Purscell’s family. In the ensuing trial, Emmanuel’s mother stood before the court, her voice breaking with raw, narrated grief. She described her son, a hard-working 17-year-old employed at Shake N’ Shake, who had graduated early with honors and was set to join the military that July. But Keandrea Cook’s actions had changed everything. The mother recounted how her son, in a moment of sheer instinct, pushed the gunman away, only for two shots to be fired. The second bullet lodged deep, causing permanent injury.

“My son now has trouble doing everyday things, putting on socks and shoes,” she lamented, her words painting a devastating picture of a promising life irrevocably changed. “His life has been changed. He’s not the same. He can’t work full-time anytime.”

The Courtroom Chaos and the Mother’s Wail

When Keandrea Cook strode into the Volusia County Court in 2017 for her sentencing, she possessed a chilling air of confidence, a belief that her youth and the fact that she was not the shooter would shield her from the harshest consequences. Her defense team argued that she was merely a pawn, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time by her boyfriend and his friends.

When given a chance to speak, Cook delivered an apology that felt, to many observers, highly calculated. “I just want to say that I’m sorry to the mom that her son had to get shot because I didn’t even know he was going to get shot,” she said, quickly shifting the blame. She then attempted to leverage her youth and future aspirations: “I ask for forgiveness for a second chance so I can get out and finish school and I can make my mama proud ’cause I want to be her first child to bring home a high school diploma.”

Despite the attempts to evoke mercy, the judge saw through the façade. He acknowledged that she did not hold the firearm and that the victim survived, but he was resolute in his finding that the crime was intentional. “It was an orchestrated ambush and you are a main part of that,” the judge stated before adjudicating her guilty of both charges and delivering the sentence: 20 years in state prison.

The courtroom instantly dissolved into chaos. Cook’s confident demeanor shattered. She broke into tears, sobbing uncontrollably and begging to hug her mother. The mother’s reaction, however, was even more visceral. Believing there had been a miscommunication regarding a plea deal, which they thought would result in house arrest or community control, the mother wailed uncontrollably and eventually collapsed in the courtroom, having to be carried out by deputies. It was a scene of unadulterated, raw emotion—a devastating confluence of a life ruined by crime and the shock of adult consequences. Though a new plea deal was later accepted in 2018, reducing her sentence to 11 years plus 20 years probation, the image of a mother’s agony and a young woman’s broken confidence cemented the devastating price of their actions.

The Swanee Path to Doom: Lured to Murder

Just two years later, a second, even darker tale unfolded in Swanee, Georgia, following the same deadly script. This time, the outcome was fatal.

The orchestrator was 17-year-old Fernanda Torres, who lured her victim, 21-year-old William Tanchez, to a secluded wooded path in 2018. The lure, as in the Florida case, was a promise of intimacy. Once Tanchez arrived, Torres’s accomplices, Nicholas Evans and Khalil Miller, ambushed him. They robbed him of his phone and cash, and then, in a brutal act of finality, shot him dead.

Tanchez’s body was not discovered until a week later, when neighborhood children stumbled across his remains near the trail. The discovery shattered the community and the victim’s family, who faced the devastating reality that their son’s life was stolen for the few meager possessions he carried.

Police quickly linked Torres to the crime through text messages and accomplice confessions. She was charged with felony murder and armed robbery—charges that carried the full weight of the law, despite her age.

Life Without Parole: The End of Innocence

As the details of the crime were presented in Gwinnett County Court, the premeditation and cold-blooded nature of the ambush became clear. It was revealed that Tanchez’s murder was just one event in a 30-hour crime spree the teens had embarked upon. Torres, like Cook before her, was primarily used to lure the male victims into the trap.

When she appeared in court, Fernanda Torres seemed unprepared for the magnitude of the justice she was about to face. She pleaded guilty, a move likely intended to show cooperation and garner leniency. Yet, as the judge prepared to deliver the sentence, Torres’s attempt to appear calm crumbled. She had thrown glares at her codefendants, Evans and Miller, seemingly blaming them for the severity of her situation.

The judge, recognizing the extreme violence and the calculated nature of the plot that resulted in a young man’s death, delivered a chilling final word: a life sentence without the possibility of parole.

Torres, who had clearly been expecting some form of leniency due to her age, froze in shock. Her eyes went wide with disbelief as the reality of a lifetime in prison sank in. The courtroom buzzed, with some arguing the sentence was too harsh for a teen, while others felt it was the only fitting justice for William Tanchez. Torres’s silence and final look of absolute horror spoke volumes, a stark contrast to Cook’s emotional breakdown. She was led away, a 17-year-old girl who would die in prison, a consequence of her cold-blooded role in a deadly ambush. Today, Torres, now 24, remains at Lee Arrendale State Prison, with no hope of ever leaving.

The New Predator Model and the Cost of Recklessness

The cases of Keandrea Cook and Fernanda Torres are more than individual crime stories; they represent a terrifying shift in the criminal landscape. They highlight how the digital age has provided new tools for predators, allowing them to weaponize trust and human desire with unprecedented efficiency. A simple profile and a flirtatious message replaced the need for masks and dark alleys, turning dating applications into hunting grounds.

Crucially, these cases demonstrate the grim reality that youth is no longer a guaranteed shield against the full weight of the justice system. Cook’s initial 20-year sentence, which prompted such emotional chaos, and Torres’s final, unforgiving life without parole sentence, send an unequivocal message: the court will treat cold-blooded malice with the severity it deserves, regardless of the perpetrator’s age. For the families of Emmanuel Purscell, who now faces a lifetime of physical limitation, and William Tanchez, who faces no future at all, the legal sentences may offer a final measure of peace, but they can never undo the devastation wrought by two teenage girls who traded a hookup for a deadly trap.