Three days before Sheriff Mickey Stines allegedly walked into Judge Kevin Mullins’ chambers and shot him nine times, an attorney contacted the Kentucky Bar Association asking what he could do to intervene. He had already warned Mullins directly. Told him Stines was losing it. The local police chief saw enough to say Stines had lost his mind. Staff inside the sheriff’s office watched their boss place phone calls to relatives who had been dead for years. His friends took him to a doctor. The doctor diagnosed acute stress reaction and sent him home. Twenty-four hours later, Kevin Mullins was dead. Court documents reveal the warning signs were everywhere. Witnesses say Stines had not slept in days. He had lost a massive amount of weight. He was convinced unnamed people were going to kill his wife and daughter. He woke his wife at night to whisper because he believed their home was bugged. Coworkers saw it. An attorney saw it. The police chief saw it. Nobody had the power to stop it. Kentucky has no red flag law. Involuntary commitment requires proof of imminent danger, not paranoid delusions, not rapid weight loss, not bizarre behavior. And when the person in crisis is an elected sheriff, no one has the authority to suspend him, disarm him, or override his denials. Psychotherapist Shavaun Scott joins us to break down what these behaviors actually mean clinically, what paranoid psychosis looks like, why people miss or dismiss the signs, and whether Stines’ insanity defense might hold up in court. The widow’s civil lawsuit now asks whether three sheriff’s office employees should be held liable for failing to warn Mullins. Their defense: Kentucky law imposed no duty to warn or protect. Everyone did something. It was not enough.