A horrifying and sprawling narrative of deep-seated corruption, sexual predation, and alleged murder has begun to unravel in Letcher County, Kentucky, following the public release of footage showing the county’s then-sheriff, Shawn “Mickey” Stine, walking into a district judge’s office and allegedly firing six rounds into Judge Kevin Mullins in September of 2024. This brazen act of violence has ripped the lid off a decades-long conspiracy, with multiple women now courageously stepping forward to allege that the murdered judge was a central player in a pervasive sex trafficking ring involving drugs and the trading of judicial favors, a ring they claim was operated with impunity by local officials throughout the county’s court and prison system.
One of the primary voices speaking out is Tya Adams, a recovered drug addict and former Letcher County inmate, who has made devastatingly specific allegations against the late Judge Kevin Mullins and the corrupt system he allegedly oversaw. In a powerful YouTube statement, Adams declared, “Sex trafficking, extortion, prison for profit, embezzlement. I mean, you name it, it’s going on in our courthouse.” She provided the Daily Caller with a harrowing account of her own victimization, alleging that Mullins began paying her for sexual favors when she was just 16 years old, while she was learning office work at the courthouse. Adams stated she was “groomed and ushered into sex work for the Letcher County Court higher-ups,” alleging that cocaine was the drug of choice and that these illicit acts occurred “all over the courthouse,” including in the very chambers behind the room where Mullins was later shot and killed.
These shocking allegations do not stand in isolation. Investigative reporter Brian Entin of NewsNation has interviewed three other women with connections to Mullins who have publicly corroborated various portions of these claims, with several more sources confirming the allegations anonymously due to legitimate fears for their safety. The combined weight of these interviews paints a picture of a justice system utterly corrupted from within. One corrections officer provided a damning analogy to Entin, comparing the local jail to a brothel where officers would frequently have sex with inmates in exchange for favors or contraband, and where supervisors would sometimes even take inmates home for the night, a staggering breach of public trust and professional ethics.
Further evidence of this institutional depravity emerges from an audio interview between a victim and state law enforcement, conducted before Mullins’ death, in which the victim claimed to have seen a sex tape featuring higher-ups, including Mullins, engaging in sexual acts with an inmate in the judge’s own chambers in exchange for reduced jail time. This allegation points to a quid-pro-quo system of abuse that traded freedom for sexual compliance, leveraging the immense power of the state against its most vulnerable captives. Adams corroborated this culture, telling the Daily Caller that although she was not pressured into sex while incarcerated, she witnessed it happening to others, and that Mullins’ misconduct with her continued until she was 20 years old, a pattern she claims was “accepted as normal” within the courthouse walls.
The murder of Judge Mullins appears intrinsically linked to this web of corruption. Just three days before Sheriff Stine allegedly shot him, Stine had given a deposition in a federal civil case brought by a former inmate, Sabrina Adkins, who claimed she was coerced by a former corrections officer, Ben Fields, into performing sexual acts. Fields, who had previously pleaded guilty to rape, sodomy, and other charges, allegedly told Adkins they “could work something out” regarding payment for her home incarceration monitor. Another plaintiff in that suit, Jennifer Hill, made similar claims of coercion before her death in 2023, a death Adams suspects was not accidental but a intentional killing via a lethal “hotshot” drug cocktail designed to mimic an overdose, meant to silence her.
The paranoia and fear surrounding this case are palpable and extend far beyond the accused shooter. Body camera footage from Stine’s arrest showed him in a state of extreme paranoia, telling Kentucky State Police, “I’ve seen the look… Don’t shoot me.” Jail records indicated he was in an “active state of psychosis” days after the shooting, disoriented and reportedly “responding to internal stimuli.” This climate of terror also grips the whistleblowers. Adams herself told the Caller she fears for her life, stating bluntly, “This ain’t about a damn sex ring, this is organized cartel crime, and I connected the dots […] making me a liability.” Another local investigator expressed feeling that she is being followed, underscoring the dangerous power dynamics at play.
At the heart of this alleged criminal enterprise, Adams points to the Addiction Recovery Center (ARC) in Louisa, an institution meant to heal but which she claims functioned as a predatory revolving door. She alleges the ARC intentionally kept vulnerable women dependent on drugs to make them easier targets for sexual exploitation, a claim given credence by the fact the facility is now under investigation by the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI). While the Kentucky State Police have confirmed an active and ongoing investigation, their public statements have remained silent on the specific, sprawling accusations of a county-wide sex ring operated by officials, leaving a community of 20,000 residents grappling with the terrifying possibility that the very institutions designed to protect them were, in fact, instruments of their predation.