I am a true crime podcaster. But I do not just think of myself as a podcaster…I like the terms “victim advocate”, “citizen sleuth” and “crimefighter”. Over the years I have held many different titles and thought of myself in many ways. I am also a mom, wife, sister, and daughter, a hairstylist, a veteran, and a friend to many. I was never destined to just be one thing forever and ever until I die. I’ve changed careers and directions at least half a dozen times over the years. And who needs labels anyway? But as I hear Lynne Kreger’s voice over the phone for the first time, and she begins to tell me about her son Kyle, one label does come to mind; mother.
“Sometimes I think, you know, that he’s just going to walk through that door. And this has just all been a dream. But I don’t think it is. I’m awake. And I do feel the pain. I still see a white Camero sometimes and I think ‘Is that his old car?’ I see somebody walking down the street in a pair of cargo shorts, he always wore those beige cargo shorts, flip-flops, and a t-shirt. Could that be him? Where they wrong?” — Lynne Kreger, 2018
In 2018 my husband Ken and I had been doing our podcast, Paradise After Dark: Missing & Unsolved, for only a few months when I got a message from a listener who forwarded me a link to a Facebook group called Friends of Kyle Byrtus. After joining the group and checking out the posts I discovered that Kyle Byrtus was a 25-year-old man who was murdered and left in a secluded field in Lehigh Acres, Florida on August 15th, 2013.
I messaged the admin of the group, introduced myself and our podcast, and asked if there was someone I could speak to about the case. I got a response quite quickly. It was Lynne Kreger, Kyle’s mother. My mouth went dry… Suddenly, I had no idea what to say. What was I supposed to say? How do I speak to this woman? This woman has endured possibly the worst experience any human being can endure; the murder of her only child. Should I be matter-of-fact or should I be sympathetic? Should I use “kid gloves” or just speak normally? This type of thing cannot be learned from a book, because victim’s families are complex and each one is different.
I honestly cannot remember exactly what I said to Lynne the first time we messaged back and forth, but I remember she was eager to be interviewed for our podcast. She had been seeking justice for her son for over 5 years at that point. She had done a few interviews with local news outlets and our local Crime Stoppers, but the case had gone cold and I could tell she was struggling to keep Kyle’s name in the spotlight. She was fighting the best way she knew how, by posting on social media and talking to everyone she could.
I wanted so badly to help her. I can imagine, but I cannot say I know exactly how it feels to lose a child to violence or to lose a child in general. Regardless, I could feel Lynne’s love for her son, and her need for justice and closure. I made up my mind at that moment that I was going to help this fellow mother, no matter what it took. I would get past my fears and insecurities and just let her tell me her story, then see what I could do with it.
Luckily for me, Lynne was open and honest about everything when it came to Kyle. She was very easy to talk to and it was not long before I felt completely comfortable talking and asking questions, even the hard questions. She’s a beautiful and kind soul and even after we covered her son’s case she has continued to support us and cheer us on with our podcast and other endeavors.
Lynne told me Kyle had been a great kid. When he was younger, he went on several mission trips with his church youth groups. They would perform clown and puppet acts in orphanages throughout Guatemala and Honduras. In high school, he was a straight-A student and graduated from Fort Myers High School with honors in 2006. He was a star on the school’s cross-country running team, which earned him a scholarship to Florida Atlantic University in Boca Raton, Florida where he majored in business.
Lynne did not know how Kyle was introduced to opioids during his first year of college, but Kyle’s story turned into one that is well-known these days. Even after witnessing a close friend of his become an addict and try to get clean, and professing to his mother that he would “never be a druggie” Kyle became addicted.
Kyle soon found himself on academic probation at school and eventually dropped out and moved back to Fort Myers, FL to be with his family. But Kyle found that being home again with rules and a curfew wasn’t what he wanted. He consistently broke the house rules and stayed out at night. Lynne was frustrated and worried about her son but never imagined that Kyle had gotten into drugs.
Kyle eventually returned to Boca Raton where he stayed for another five years. Kyle never returned to school, he just kind of floated through life, moving every time his lease was up and hopping from job to job. He would come home to his family for the holidays but if he stayed for more than a day or so he always seemed to get sick, dope-sick, so his visits were brief. We know now that Kyle didn’t have a drug connection on the west coast of Florida so he needed to get back to get his fix.
In early 2012 one of Kyle’s friends contacted his family to let them know that Kyle was in trouble. Kyle needed help; he was heavily addicted to Oxycodone. His uncle and grandfather drove over to Boca Raton and found Kyle at his apartment. After a long heart-to-heart talk, Kyle agreed to come home and try to get clean. He moved in with his grandparents because they were retired and could keep a close eye on him.
During one conversation with his mom, Kyle explained how he afforded his drug use. He was the “middle man”, meaning he would get the pills from his supplier and sell them, but take his payment in the form of more pills instead of cash. He had gotten up to taking 10–12 pills per day and taking them orally was not working as well anymore so she started crushing them and shooting up.
After staying sober and living with his grandparents for a few months Kyle found himself a drug connection on Florida’s west coast and fell back into his old ways. Finally, his grandparents kicked him out and they and his mother refused to let him live with them unless he got clean. They lined up rehab facilities for him time and again but Kyle always refused to go. He couch-surfed for a while and then ended up living in a tent in a field in a neighborhood of Fort Myers called Pine Manor. Pine Manor was, and still is, an area rife with drugs and criminal activity.
In June 2013, Kyle was arrested for theft. He had been scouring the Walmart parking lot for receipts, going inside to find the items on the receipts, and returning them for cash. After his arrest, Kyle called his mother and asked her to bail him out. Lynne told Kyle she would bail him out if he agreed to go to rehab, and again he refused. The following day when Lynne called the jail to inquire about visiting Kyle she learned he had been released. No, he had not been bailed out by someone else, just released. The reasons for Kyle’s release from jail are still unclear. Lynne never got to see or speak to her son again after that.
In a recent conversation I had with Lynne she admitted to me that she listens to the recording of that call from Kyle over and over, just to hear his voice again. That was the last conversation she ever had with her son and the only recording available with his voice. It is not a nice conversation, but it’s Kyle’s voice, and that phone call is what his grieving mother clings to. This is one of the realities that many people do not realize. What you have left when a loved one is gone is not always lovely photos and sweet memories. Sometimes it’s a recording of a jailhouse phone call…
On August 15, 2013, Lynne received the phone call that is every parent’s worst nightmare. To make matters worse, Lynne was out of the state at the time. Someone from the Lee County Sheriff’s Office called and said they needed to speak to someone about Kyle. They would not tell her what was wrong over the phone, just told her that a local deputy from the town they were staying in would be in touch. Lynne was a self-described “basket case” as they sat in their hotel room for hours waiting to get word about what was wrong with her son. Lynne finally called the Lee County detective and demanded to know what was going on and they finally told her that her son had been killed.
Earlier that day a man working for Lee County Electric Cooperative (LCEC) made a wrong turn and had to turn around in an undeveloped cul-de-sac in a wooded area of Lehigh Acres, Florida. Much to his shock and horror, this man spotted what he believed to be a deceased person. Lee County Deputy Leslie Green responded and confirmed that the body of a deceased white male lay on the roadway. The man had his hands tied behind his back and several gunshot wounds; one in his head, several in his torso, and one in his right forearm. It was Kyle Byrtus.
The crime scene was a challenge, as a tropical storm had rolled through and washed away much of the evidence. There was no gun present at the scene, ruling out suicide, just in case the fact that his hands were tied behind his back didn’t already make that obvious. As far as I know, the authorities believe Kyle’s murder was drug-related and that there are people, specifically people in the Pine Manor neighborhood, who know who killed Kyle.
In my conversation with Lynne for our podcast episode she told me she could still visualize the moment she got the news, even down to what clothes she was wearing. She told me it had been a long five years (at the time) since that phone call. Now it’s been over 10 years. The non-profit organization that I started in February of 2023, The Florida Themis Project, featured Kyle Byrtus as our “case of the month” in August of 2023, highlighting the 10th anniversary of his murder. We did a large public awareness campaign on social media and SWFL Crime Stoppers put up two billboards around our Fort Myers.
Kyle’s case is still unsolved. I have kept in contact with Lynne over the years. She is still fighting for justice for her son.
“They always ask, you know, what do I miss the most about him. And I always said his smile. But I started thinking about that just a few weeks ago. And it was like, no, I just miss everything about him.” I can hear the remembering as she talks. Her voice is sad but hopeful. “The way he would smack his food when he ate. He could just sit and watch TV and just burst out laughing, and I’d laugh, thinking of him. He got me to watch this stupid Christmas movie. I just had to watch it because it was so hysterical. And that was when (the movie) Elf first came out. And so now, the first year I couldn’t watch it. But now I watch it and I laugh and I cry.” — Lynne Kreger, 2023
I’m reminded of my daughter, forcing me to watch YouTube videos of that very obnoxious kid FRED, and how she would giggle uncontrollably. One year at Christmas we got her a FRED t-shirt and when she opened it, she stopped, snickered, pulled it out, and gleefully squealed “I got a Fred shirt!” with all the excitement of a kid who had just been presented with a waterpark in their backyard.
Kyle Bytrus was a man I never knew, yet his unsolved murder haunts me. After covering his case and getting to know Lynne over the last several years it has become personal to me. I often think about Kyle and continue praying for justice for him and his family. I know there are people out there who have information that could help catch his killer, they just need to step up and say something.
Anyone with any information on Kyle’s murder is urged to contact the Lee County Sheriff’s Office at (239) 477–1000 or call SWFL Crime Stoppers 1–800–780-TIPS.