Dr. Michael David McKee’s once-charming Bumble profile has taken on a sinister new light following his indictment for the premeditated murders of his ex-wife Monique Tepe and her husband Spencer Tepe. The 39-year-old vascular surgeon, arrested on January 10, 2026, in the Chicago area, now faces four counts of aggravated murder, one count of aggravated burglary, and a firearms enhancement for allegedly using a silencer during the December 30, 2025, shooting in Columbus, Ohio. The unearthed dating app images—shared widely after his arrest—paint a stark contrast between the polished, aspirational man he presented online and the cold calculation authorities allege drove him to kill.
The Bumble profile, active when McKee was approximately 32, showcased a confident, high-achieving professional. In one photo he wore a lilac sweater over a white shirt, smiling broadly with a noticeable tan. Another playful shot featured him holding a childhood lunchbox labeled “Mike” decorated with a cartoon dinosaur—an endearing touch meant to humanize him. Additional images captured him in social settings, traveling, and at work, emphasizing his career as a vascular surgeon trained at Ohio State University College of Medicine (graduated 2014). His bio highlighted an active lifestyle—hot yoga, electric motorcycle riding, skiing, basketball, football—and eclectic music tastes ranging from DMX to Soundgarden. He described himself as a social drinker, non-smoker, 6ft 2in tall, and expressed a desire to have children someday. A “two truths and a lie” prompt listed cycling coast-to-coast, rodeo riding, and drinking water when thirsty, with the cookies boast adding a domestic charm.
These details, innocuous at the time, now read as hauntingly ironic. Monique Tepe and McKee married on August 22, 2015, shortly after he completed medical school. The union unraveled quickly. Monique filed for divorce in May 2017 on grounds of incompatibility; it was finalized in June 2017 with no shared children. Family members later revealed Monique endured emotional abuse and repeated death threats during the marriage. She confided in loved ones that she felt terrified and desperate to escape, describing McKee as controlling and fragile-egoed. After the divorce, Monique met Spencer Tepe through an online dating app, married him in December 2020, and welcomed two children. Friends portrayed the couple as deeply in love, generous, and joyful—everything her previous marriage allegedly lacked.
McKee’s post-divorce life appeared outwardly successful. He relocated for residency in Virginia, practiced in Nevada, then settled in Illinois, working at OSF Saint Anthony Medical Center in Rockford. Yet a 2023 malpractice lawsuit in Nevada accused him of negligence causing severe patient injury; an amended complaint filed in September 2025 alleged a surgical device fractured inside a patient’s leg. Service attempts failed because McKee “disappeared,” with outdated addresses provided. The civil cases remain unresolved.
The murders occurred early on December 30, 2025, in the Weinland Park home Monique and Spencer shared with their children (ages 1 and 4). No forced entry suggested familiarity with the residence. Spencer, 37, was found in a pool of blood beside the bed; Monique, 39, in another room. Both died from gunshot wounds. The children and family dog were unharmed physically but left crying until police arrived after a wellness check prompted by Spencer missing work. Columbus Police Chief Elaine Bryant labeled the attack targeted and domestic-violence related.
Surveillance captured a hooded figure—linked to McKee—near the home between 2 a.m. and 5 a.m. Vehicle tracking placed his car at the scene before and after the estimated time of death. A search of his Lincoln Park condo recovered multiple firearms; one preliminarily matched ballistics. The silencer ensured quiet execution, sparing the sleeping children immediate awareness.
A Franklin County grand jury indicted McKee on January 16, 2026. He waived extradition from Illinois and intends to plead not guilty. His public defender has remained silent on specifics. Conviction could mean life without parole.
The Bumble photos amplify public shock. The hopeful, cookie-baking, future-father persona clashes violently with the premeditated double homicide accusation. Family of the victims expressed profound sorrow and gratitude for the arrest. A Tepe statement read: “Today’s arrest represents an important step toward justice for Monique and Spencer. Nothing can undo the devastating loss… We thank the community for the continued support… Monique and Spencer remain at the center of our hearts.”
McKee’s adoptive upbringing was reportedly stable, with him a high achiever. Yet sources close to Monique suggest seeing her thrive with Spencer—remarried, children, happiness—shattered him. One friend told media it “destroyed” him emotionally. No recent contact existed, and no prior safety orders were documented, raising questions about how long-simmering resentment went undetected.
The case exposes domestic violence’s delayed lethality: threats from nearly a decade ago erupting into fatal action. Monique’s alleged fear during the marriage—never formally reported—highlights how victims can suffer privately. Emotional abuse, control, and jealousy over an ex moving on can fester into obsession.
In Columbus, the community mourns deeply. Spencer was beloved for his kindness, Spanish fluency, Big Brothers Big Sisters work, and fandom for the Bengals and Ohio State Buckeyes. Tributes covered their porch; funerals celebrated their light. The children now live with extended family, surrounded by support.
As McKee awaits trial in Ohio, the dating app images—once lighthearted—now serve as a grim before-and-after. They remind society that monsters can hide behind polished profiles, perfect smiles, and promises of chocolate chip cookies. The tragedy forces reflection on abuse recognition, mental health in high-pressure careers, and the long reach of unresolved pain. For Monique’s loved ones, justice offers no true healing—only a fragile path forward carrying her memory.
