The mind of a murderer. The chilling texts from Molly Ticehurst's killer - ABC News & Headlines – Australian Broadcasting Corporation

On a Sunday night in April 2024, Molly Ticehurst said something that still haunts the people who loved her. 

She was hosting a dinner for two friends and her mum at her home in Forbes, in New South Wales's central west, serving her specialty, savoury chops.

As they relaxed after dinner, the conversation took a turn.

Molly said to her mother Kate: "If anything happens to me, I want you to keep my car and I want you to keep my son."

It baffled Molly's best friend Meg Sladek, who wondered, "Did something happen that she's not telling us?"

But the night went on. At 10pm, as everyone left, Meg told Molly she loved her and Molly replied: "Love you darling, see you tomorrow."

"That," says Meg, "was the last thing we said to each other."

Less than two hours later, Molly was dead.

Her former partner Daniel Billings broke into her bedroom through a window and stabbed her multiple times.

He was in and out of the house in 59 seconds.

Sixteen days earlier, Molly had reported him to police, telling them she feared for her life.

What happened next would expose a series of failures — in the police response, the bail system and the protection she said she was promised — that left Molly vulnerable to the man she feared most.

Molly, 28, was the girl everyone wanted to be around. She loved going out with friends, a cup of tea with her mum each morning and riding on her dad's motorbike. 

She had eyes that squinted when she laughed, a wicked sense of humour and a way of making people feel at ease.

She was a doting single mum to her six-year-old boy; it was them against the world.

Molly's friend Gaby Shepherd says "Mol" looked like a tough girl with tattoos, but underneath, the early childhood educator was a softie.

"She wanted to be loved, wanted to find that long-term relationship," Gaby says.

When Billings, a tattooed "hot boxer" from nearby Parkes, showed up on Molly's dating app in January 2022, he quickly charmed her with gifts and attention.

"He bought her a beautiful cow hide bag, a bangle and she thought, 'Wow, I'm so spoiled,'" Meg says.

Gaby says Molly's friends rarely saw Billings, 31, and she vividly recalls her one encounter with the trainee exploration driller.

"My first time meeting him was through a car window at one of the girl's houses. He spat on another girl's car. I was disgusted," she says.

Molly's friends began to see a pattern of emotional manipulation.

Gaby: Then that's your way out  Molly Jean. I would nip it in the bud now. Save yourself hurt down the track

Molly: But yet he tells me cares for me and he's attached to me, and he doesn't want me to leave ...

After 18 months, Molly ended the relationship. 

Billings collected his belongings and took their puppy Wallace, which they had bought together for her son.

Molly hoped for a clean break, but Billings began bombarding her with messages.

"One day we were sitting in her lounge room together and he called 14 times in two minutes," Meg says.

Molly had invested so much in the relationship, Gaby says, and she wanted to believe "this was still my person".

"Maybe that's why she went back to him."

During their brief reconciliation, Billings confessed that he had killed Wallace the night they broke up. He had pulled over at a truck stop and bludgeoned the puppy to death with a hammer.

"I think I'm a bit traumatised and just stunned that he could do that," Molly texted Gaby.

"I stared at the carpet for nearly an hour, just in disbelief."

Molly now knew the man she had struggled to leave was capable of extreme cruelty.

In December 2023, Molly cut off contact.

But ending the relationship did not end Billings's control.

Weeks later, Billings turned up at Molly's home and things turned ugly.

Molly claimed he became aggressive, throwing a fan, and when she said she'd call the police if he didn't calm down, he gave a chilling warning: "If you ring the police, I can get in your window and get to you quicker than they will be here."

Like many regional towns, Forbes's police station wasn't 24/7.

The nearest overnight station was at Parkes, about 20 minutes away.

Molly also alleged Billings raped her that night.

Molly: ... you really scared me last night 

Molly: Honestly I thought you could have last night. I’ve never seen that side of you, and you frightened me

Daniel: I've told you before, I don’t beat women. Yeah, I was angry no doubt. When you lose everything it'll make you a bit mad  

Forbes domestic violence support worker Anne-Marie Mioche says Molly was very good at naming Billings's behaviour and holding a mirror back to him.

"I think part of the problem that put her in danger is that … she was actually reflecting to him a different image to how he perceived himself," Ms Mioche says.

"He never accepted he raped her and for someone who is needing to be in control and has a particular self-image of himself — that's intolerable."

Molly asked her father Tony to change the locks. He fitted wooden dowels into the windows so they could not be slid open.

Over the next few months, Billings continued to harass Molly at all hours of the day. She feared going to the police would enrage him; he had already threatened to hurt Tony. And Molly knew that Billings could attack faster than the police could arrive.

Tony was unaware of the threats, saying now: "I believe that Molly sacrificed herself to protect her family. And that's brave."

Molly and Billings met up again on March 4, 2024, driving to a soccer field in Parkes. 

Molly alleged he pulled a knife from the centre console and raped her again. This time at knifepoint. 

Ms Mioche says Molly kept agreeing to meet Billings to try to keep him on side.

"How many cards have you got to play?" she asks.

"Diplomacy is the only thing that you've got left. It's in the nature of women to pacify and try and find a peaceful resolution to a separation.

"But he wouldn't accept that. He always wanted more."

On March 27, 2024, Billings again pleaded to see her.

Molly: Why do you want to see me?  

Molly: Why did you want to kill me? Why do you do all the  bad stuff  to  me?  

Daniel: I just wanted to hold you and feel something for an hour. I honestly feel like a ghost just empty floating around

A month later, 18 days before her death, Molly said Billings's final warning came in a phone call.

When Molly revealed to her friends and family how violent the relationship had turned, they urged her again to contact the police.

Two days later, on April 5, 2024, Molly reported Billings to police.

He was arrested and charged with offences including stalking and intimidation, animal cruelty and rape. Police told Molly the rape allegations would be dealt with later by detectives.

The next day Billings had his bail hearing in Dubbo. It was a Saturday and the magistrate was off work so a registrar had to make the decision. 

A police prosecutor outlined the seriousness of the allegations but did not explicitly oppose bail. 

Meg says Molly seemed lighter after going to the police, but was still very worried. 

"We were messaging that day and she was very scared he was going to get bail and I was like, 'Molly, come on, with his charges, he's not going to get bail,'" Meg says. 

Molly told her family and friends she spoke with domestic violence support provider Housing Plus and she said they offered to fortify her home with security upgrades.

Tony decided to help Molly get out of town for a while, giving her money to leave with her son. A week later, Molly returned home to celebrate her birthday.

"She seemed a lot more relieved because … nothing really had happened," Tony says.

Billings had been released on an apprehended violence order (AVO) and was not allowed to approach Molly.

However, Ms Mioche says, the most dangerous time for a woman leaving a relationship is when an AVO is in place.

"She has made his behaviour public. So everyone knows what he's like, who he really is," Ms Mioche says.

It was 15 days since Billings had been released and Molly’s home had still not been fitted out with security.

Billings had been reaching out to his friends and was furious. On April 21, he left a note for them.

In the meantime, Molly's parents had been sleeping over some nights. She was beginning to feel more confident and started to be at home by herself. 

Tony and Molly would text each other good night. 

That was the last text Tony ever got from his daughter. 

Before sunrise the next day, Tony received a call from Molly's mother Kate. 

"You better get up here," Tony recalls Kate saying. 

"I thought [Billings] was up there carrying on, wanting to fight, and I went up there and the road was blocked by a cop car and Kate is hysterical and saying, 'He's killed her, he's killed her.' 

Molly had been discovered by a police officer who had gone to her house after Billings admitted to friends what he had done. 

Molly's family and friends stood vigil outside her house for 12 hours while forensic officers worked. 

"They had the black tarp over her window and it just felt like we were in a horror movie," Gaby says. 

"When they brought her out in the bag, I just remember Kate making this awful noise, just awful." 

"I was searching, 'Could I have done something to stop it?' I had a lot of trouble with that for a long time," he says.

"I believe now too with the ferocity of the attack on her, that even if I had been there, I wouldn't have saved her. 

"I'm really grateful that Molly's son had asked to stay at his dad's that night."

Molly's murder became a flashpoint in the nation's debate about domestic violence and has led to legal changes in NSW. 

Within days, the state announced it would reform bail laws. Key changes include ankle monitoring and the reversal of the presumption of bail for alleged offenders. And magistrates, rather than court registrars, are now required to oversee all bail hearings.

Independent state MP for Orange and former police prosecutor Phil Donato says police must share the blame for Billings's release.

"As a police prosecutor, who spent 15 or 16 years in the local court and probably did hundreds if not thousands of bail applications in that time, if you want someone refused bail, you've got to put it on the record," he says. 

"I wouldn't be comfortable giving someone like that bail." 

The state government has done a review of support services provided to Molly and says it will be released after Billings's case is finalised.

It's too painful for Molly's mum to speak about her only child's murder but she's released a statement saying there had been a "failure to protect Molly" from when she first went to police until her death.

Housing Plus says while it's "deeply saddened" by Molly's death, it wouldn't be appropriate to discuss individual cases, adding that it has never provided the service Molly was seeking in Forbes.

It also says, "the responsibility for violence belongs with the person choosing to use it".

Yesterday, Billings was sentenced to 28 years' jail with a non-parole period of 20 years.

Molly's family and friends are disappointed his criminal record will not reflect the raft of charges he originally faced, including several allegations of sexual intercourse without consent, aggravated sexual assault/threat inflict grievous bodily harm/wounding.

"It's almost like the slate's been wiped clean," Meg says.

On most days, Tony visits Molly's gravesite at the Forbes cemetery.

He takes her flowers, and on her birthday this year, he brought a piece of cake and a can of bourbon. 

"If I had a problem, no matter what it was, we'd talk about it. I've lost a best mate," he says. 

"The ache is always there. Sometimes you think it's gone away; it might be a week and then bang, you burst into tears, you ache, your voice quivers, shakes; you just don't feel right." 

Tony says Molly's son is doing the best he can under the circumstances. 

"The only thing he's got of his mum are photos up to when he was six. There's no other memories to create." 

Meg wants Molly to be "remembered for exactly who she was, not how she was killed". 

"When I think of her, it's the way her eyes disappeared when she smiled and the laugh that followed," Meg says. 

"There's no-one like her. I will never have a friend like her again," Gaby says.

Her best friend from childhood, Aidan Clarke, says Molly would always make you feel better about yourself, even when she was having the worst day of her life. 

"She was the perfect friend," he says. 

Statements: Read the full statements from NSW Police, Housing Plus, NSW government and Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions here.