Arkia “Kia” Berry lived for two things: her son and her craft. The 28-year-old Birmingham hairstylist had built a loyal clientele doing children’s styles, turning nervous little ones into confident kids with every braid and cut. She was vibrant, self-assured, and deeply devoted to Landyn Brooks, her energetic five-year-old who lit up every room with his smile. On July 13, 2024, the three of them — Kia, Landyn, and her boyfriend Eric Ashley Jr. — set out for what seemed like a routine errand. None came home.

They pulled into the Echo Highlands neighborhood on Indian Summer Drive around 5 p.m. for a supposed quick “business meeting.” Surveillance footage captured a lime-green Kia Soul pulling up, a brief interaction, then chaos. More than 20 bullets tore through Kia’s blue Nissan Maxima. The car jumped the curb and slammed to a stop in front of a residence. First responders found all three dead inside — Kia, Landyn, and Eric — victims of a targeted, execution-style shooting.

In her final conscious moments, bleeding out beside her little boy, Kia did something extraordinary. She didn’t call for help. She typed four letters into her phone and sent them to a friend: “JACO.” That single word became the key that cracked the case wide open.

A Mother and Son Who Were Inseparable

Kia grew up in Birmingham, graduated from A.H. Parker High School, and turned her love for hair into a real business. Friends described her as someone who celebrated life loudly — dinner dates with herself, big smiles in selfies, and endless pride in Landyn. The little boy had already faced tragedy: his biological father was killed by gunfire in 2020 when Landyn was just a toddler. Kia worked hard to give her son stability, love, and joy. She took him to football practice with the Wahouma Park 5U team, where coaches called him the spark of the group — always smiling, always lifting others.

Landyn was supposed to start kindergarten that fall. He was an “old soul” with a contagious personality. Less than two hours before the shooting, his coach had been with him on the field. The loss hit the entire youth football community like a gut punch.

Eric Ashley Jr., also 28, had been in Kia’s life for nearly three years. He had recently come home after serving time on federal drug charges and appeared to be trying to rebuild. Phone records later showed he had been in contact with the suspect earlier that day.

The Setup and the Final Moments

The green Kia Soul entered the neighborhood at 5:07 p.m. Kia’s Maxima followed shortly after. By 5:10 p.m., the green car sped away while the Maxima, riddled with holes, moved only a short distance before crashing. Most of the gunfire was concentrated on the passenger side where Eric sat, suggesting he may have been the primary target.

Yet the bullets didn’t spare anyone. Kia, fighting for life next to her son, managed to send that fateful text at 5:09 p.m. “Jaco” — the known nickname of Jacorrian Deshawn McGregor, 25. That message gave detectives the breakthrough they needed.

McGregor was arrested in February 2025 by a joint task force including Birmingham Police and U.S. Marshals. He faces capital murder charges for the deaths of two or more persons. Guns and drugs were reportedly found during a search of his home. He remains held without bond.

Community Grief and Unanswered Questions

The triple homicide rocked Birmingham’s Echo Highlands area — normally a place where kids played in the park and families felt safe. Vigils filled with balloons, teddy bears, and tears honored the mother-son duo who were described as “two peas in a pod.” Kia’s cousin said she gave Landyn everything he needed and more. The little boy’s coach had to explain to a team of preschoolers why their friend wasn’t coming back.

Why bring a five-year-old to a business meeting? That haunting question lingers. Investigators believe the gathering was pre-arranged and tied to Eric’s past. Whether it was old debts, drugs, or something else, the decision placed an innocent child directly in the line of fire.

Kia’s final act of courage — using her last strength to name the shooter — moved an entire city. In a car filled with gunfire and fear, she protected her son’s memory and pointed authorities toward justice.

A Legacy Cut Short

Kia Berry’s story is more than another statistic in Birmingham’s gun violence epidemic. It’s the story of a young mother fighting to break cycles, a little boy full of promise, and a final message that refused to let the truth die with them. As the capital murder case moves forward, her four-letter text stands as powerful evidence that even in the darkest moments, a mother’s love can still speak.

The green car is gone. The bullets have stopped. But the pain remains — for family members who lost their heart, for a football team missing its spark, and for a community asking how a simple meeting turned into a massacre.

Kia didn’t just fight for her life that day. She fought for justice with her dying breath. Her last word ensured that “Jaco” would not stay hidden. In the end, that courage may be her greatest gift to the son she adored and the city she called home.