Although I’m reluctant to divulge my lowbrow tendencies, I must admit that I’ve been closely following the disappearance and murder of Gabby Petito since the story broke on September 11. In case you’re a sane person, who doesn’t get sucked in by sensationalism, here’s the condensed version of the ongoing saga.

Gabby and her fiancé, Brian Laundrie, were having a well-documented trip of lifetime visiting national parks when trouble hit paradise. Reports of domestic violence surfaced.

Brian returned to his parents’ home in Florida in early September. He remained under his parents’ care for several weeks before the shit hit the fan—Gabby was reported missing and, shortly thereafter, her body was found in Wyoming. Brian fled.

I know I’m not alone in my fascination with this story, but what has captivated me is not Gabby and Brian’s fraught relationship but Brian’s relationship with his parents.

Of course, we don’t know what transpired when Brian returned to his parents’ home sans his fiancé. I don’t envision that he strolled in and announced, “Nothing to worry about, Mom and Dad. I got rid of Gabby but I have her van and her ATM card.”

The court of public opinion has likely declared Laundrie guilty as hell, however his parents—at least initially— probably believed whatever story their son told them. After all, few parents can imagine that the sweet child they raised is capable of murder.

Harboring Fugitives

In recognition of our tangled family ties, 14 states—including Florida—exempt parents, spouses, siblings and children from prosecution for harboring a fugitive member of their family or providing assistance to criminal kinfolk. So even if Brian told his parents that he murdered Gabby, his parents would not be prosecuted for helping him hide from the law.

The way the laws are written, family members cannot be prosecuted for assisting an offender after a crime was committed “with the intent that the offender avoids or escapes detection, arrest, trial, or punishment.” Presumably, these laws reflect the belief that family members could be hard-wired to protect their own.

Some would say that these state laws are harmful to society; others would argue that they’re realistic. Regardless of policy soundness, the statutes do not extend to federal laws nor do they protect family members who lie to the FBI or other officials. Obstructing justice is a crime, even in Florida.

We do know of a few high-profile cases where a family member helped capture a relative. David Kaczynski, brother of Ted Kaczynski (aka the Unabomber) brought his older brother to justice in the name of the greater good. More recently, many of the January 6 U.S. Capitol rioters were identified by family members who responded to the FBI’s requests for help.

Family Loyalty vs Morality

Placing ourselves in the Laundrie family’s situation is unimaginable for most of us. Would we help a son or daughter, a spouse or sibling run from the law? Would we naturally believe in the innocence of a close family member? These questions have been answered both ways and—as with most ethical dilemmas—the answer will be “it depends.”

I’d like to believe that I would choose morality over family loyalty if my close relative were on the lam, but I’m aware that cases of parents, spouses and siblings choosing family over civic duty are plentiful.

In the late ‘90s, a couple in Maryland helped their son leave the country and escape prosecution for a murder. In defending his actions, the father stated: "I did some simple soul-searching and I came to the conclusion that with all due respect to the law, I am first of all a father and only after that a citizen."

For now, the Laundrie parents are keeping quiet, presumably hoping their son will escape harm. Although some fugitives elude police for many years, most eventually get caught one way or another. Janis Joplin made famous the line: “Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.” Brian Laundrie may be free at the moment, but I doubt any parent would wish that kind of freedom for their child.