Run (9 page)

I needed to spread out and the car wasn’t working. I was
half-afraid to stop moving, obviously he had found me before and he could find me again. If I stopped it might give him a chance to find me, but in order to continue my search I needed to move, to find someplace to stop, someplace to spread out, think and review. If I stayed someplace I would be taking a risk. If I didn’t, I might miss some vital piece of the puzzle (not to mention the fact that my hair didn’t look right if I didn’t shower every day, vain right?).

For right now
, I figured I would stay in my car and keep moving. I drove for another hour avoiding areas that might have traffic lights. I found a motel that looked promising. I decided to drive around for a while before checking in. Meanwhile, I ran through the information I had so far in my mind. He had killed 23 girls over a span of 30 years. Only once in 1984 did he abduct and kill two girls. Witnesses recalled seeing a tall man. All of the girls were abducted in crowded places. They were all dumped in public places. He must have a vehicle like a van or SUV where he could easily transport a body. Someone must have seen something. I needed to look through all the cases again.

At 9
:00 I was in the motel. After taking my fur kids out, I followed my nightly routine times ten. I checked every window. I checked the door bolt. I dragged a chair in front of the door. I did everything I could to fortify my position. I didn’t think anyone could get in without me knowing. I put my pepper spray around my wrist and the hunting knife I had bought and not used in my pocket. Once I felt secure, I started pulling out my files and setting up what I knew so far.

I looked back at my timeline.
I checked each file to make sure I had copied every bit of information I had onto my timeline. The timeline went from the first murder in the early 80s until the last most recent murder. I had pictures of each victim on a white board. Under the picture I had whatever details I could get about the case --the age of the victim, where they went missing, any witnesses and what they saw. I started back at the first case and began working my way through. Anything I could find on any victim I put on the timeline. Things that witnesses saw that seemed completely random … went on the board.

Three hours later I had everything I could think
of up on that whiteboard. Every little detail. In five cases, witnesses noted a tall man speaking with or in the area of the victims before they disappeared. In four cases, the victims were seen talking to a woman. One witness saw a red van parked by the site where the body was dumped. The majority of the cases had no witnesses.

I had written everything down
. I had searched through every file and nothing seemed to make sense. Nothing helped. Nothing told me who I was dealing with. I already knew I was dealing with a monster.

I went to bed frustrated. I went to bed convinced I had nothing.

_____

It was cold and dark. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t see where I was. I was terrified.

“Charlotte, Charlotte help me.” A faint whisper, barely heard.

“
Who is it … Who’s there?”

“
You know who it is Charlotte.”

Suddenly I could see them, all of them.
All of my girls sitting around me. Forever young with ancient eyes. Emily sat right in front of me. She smiled.

“
You haven’t given up. I knew you wouldn’t.”

“
Emily, I can’t figure it out. I’ve tried, but … I don’t know who it is.”

“You are close
, closer than you think.”

“
Who is he?”

“
That won’t answer all of your questions.”

“
What do you mean?”

A noise from above quieted all conversation.

“It’s time to get up now … she’s coming.”

“Who
? Who? Emily?” My girls faded … they drifted away.

“
Wait, wait, Emily …”

A noise from outside woke me.

I sat straight up in bed, heart pounding, instantly aware, instantly awake. One thought was in my mind.

She.

Chapter 13: April 5, 3:23am - April 6, 9:50 am

I didn’t know
if the dream was just a dream or if it was a warning, but I got moving. By 4:00 I was in my car and heading away from the motel.

My mind was racing.
She … who was she? What did that mean? I knew the killer was a man. A man had attacked me. Was a woman involved? How? Did the dream mean anything or was it just my subconscious playing tricks on me.

I needed to
think. I needed to find some way to put all of the pieces together. I wanted to get further away. If the dream was telling me something, then I needed to move. I knew he was after me. There also was a she. A she that I needed to find. A she that was somehow involved and helping the killer.

____

An hour later I was parked in a crowded parking lot. I pulled out my files. There were four cases where a woman was seen. Was she working with him? That hardly seemed possible. Why on earth would a woman help him kill women? That is crazy, right? No woman would do that. Except … women have done things like that. Women have abused and killed. Women have helped men or have turned a blind eye to men’s violence.

Ok
ay, so I would assume he had an accomplice. There was a woman who was helping him. There was a woman who was working with him. He wouldn’t seem so scary if he approached these girls with a woman or if a woman approached them first.

I didn’t really know what this meant. I didn’t really know how to
reconcile the information that I had. I had a man in his late 40s to mid-50s. He travelled all over the U.S., but was mainly based on the east coast. He had a woman who worked with him. He was in law enforcement.

With that in mind
, I reviewed all of my information, all the cases, all the girls. I kept coming back to the Leslie and Georgia case. There was something about that case. Something that was sticking in the back of my mind.

He was working with a woman.

One woman he abducted was never found.

He was working with a woman.

One woman was never found … Georgia.

His accomplice was Georgia.

_____

With that thought resonating in my mind I pulled out of the parking lot and headed south. I wasn’t driving with any real purpose. I was just moving. Somehow it felt better to
keep moving.

I didn’t k
now what my next move should be. I had done everything I could to figure out who he was. Now I had another person to find. I had a name, but that person was supposed to be dead. How do you find someone who was supposed to be dead?

I needed to go back to the beginning. Back to where it began. In 1984
, in New Jersey, the killer abducted two girls. If Georgia was his accomplice then there must have been a reason why he killed Leslie, or why he didn’t kill Georgia. I needed to find out more about Georgia and Leslie. Leslie must have known her killer. I needed to go back to New Jersey.

_____

It was getting dark out when I pulled into a motel twenty minutes from the home of Leslie’s mother. Once in and settled I tried to call Jack. The phone went straight to voicemail. I left a message asking him to call me back as soon as possible.

I figured that I would talk
to Mrs. French in the morning. I planned to tell her the truth. I had spent some time trying to figure out which would be the best way to approach it. I debated a story, like the one I had told the consultants. In the end I decided against it. I felt a kinship with Mrs. French; we both wanted the same thing. We had both been victimized by the same man. I felt like she was someone I could share the truth with.

After
completing my, by now, regular evening routine with the fur kids and the locks, I fell into bed. I was plagued by dreams that night. Every few hours I woke up then struggled to go back to sleep. My dreams were full of shadowy figures and knowing eyes. When I finally awoke at 6:00 I felt groggy and disoriented.

I
was especially careful as I got ready and dressed that morning. I had limited clothing to choose from and I wanted to make a good impression. Considering everything I had been through, it struck even me as strange how nervous I was to meet this woman. It was as if she was an employer about to give me an evaluation or an interview for a job I really wanted. Logically, there was no reason for me to be so nervous, but I was. I don’t know if I was more scared that I would get information I needed or if there would be no information. Either way, when I loaded up the car to head out, my hands were clammy and my heart was racing.

I made myself eat a light breakfast before heading to Leslie’s home. By 9:30 I had pulled into the New Jersey neighborhood Leslie
French had grown up in. By 9:40 I was parked in front of her home. It took me a good 10 minutes to gather my notebooks and my courage and get out of the car. It took a few more minutes for me to lift my hand and knock.

Chapter 14: April 6, 9:50 am – 11:19pm

The woman who answered the door
was attractive with short greying hair and stylish pants and sweater. She looked at me with Leslie’s eyes. I had looked at those girls’ pictures so many times that I felt like I knew them all. Seeing those eyes looking back at me set me back. This is what Leslie would have grown up to, if a monster hadn’t killed her. I struggled to find my tongue and talk.

“Mrs.
French?”

“Yes”

“My name is Charlotte Marshall; I need to speak with you about your daughter, Leslie. Can I come inside?”

For a minute she didn’t move. She just stood and stared.
Then without saying anything she stepped aside and motioned for me to move past her. As we moved into the kitchen right off the entryway, she picked up a cordless phone. Without saying anything, she motioned me to sit at the table and then sat down across from me.

“If this is some kind of joke I will call the police. You said you wanted to talk about
Leslie. Why?”

“Mrs.
French,” (all I could do was jump right into it) “I know what happened to Leslie. I think the man that killed her has killed other girls. I think he is after me. I think that Leslie may be a key to finding him. I was hoping you could help me. I was hoping I could find answers.” I kept my voice calm and my eyes trained on hers. I was trying to be as honest and upfront as I could.

For a minute she said nothing. She just looked at me with Leslie’s sad eyes.
I wanted to keep talking. I could feel the words bubbling up in my throat. I made myself wait. I made myself give her time.

“I have looked
for years. We have looked.” She spoke slowly, softly, almost to herself. “I knew it wasn’t just a freak accident. I knew that there was someone who had targeted her. I just knew it. What can I do to help?”

A
t that moment, when she looked into my eyes, we became allies. We both had the same goal. We both wanted justice for all of those girls, for Emily and for Leslie. It was time to start from the beginning.

“I was researching
for a book. I was looking for a particular crime, one I remembered from when I was a child. I found her and then I found more, so many more. I found 23. 23 girls all killed in the same way by the same man. At first I didn’t know what to do. I went to the FBI. I had to, I felt like I owed them. All those girls.”

As I was talking
, I saw tears form in her eyes -- tears that didn’t fall but placed a sheen on those eyes. Leslie’s eyes.

“A few days after I went to the FBI
, he found me. He attacked me in a parking lot. I barely got away. Since then I have been trying to find out who he is … where he is. I narrowed it down. I have a small list. I need to narrow it more. I feel like I am close. I feel like I almost have him.”

While I was talking
, Mrs. French got up and started making tea. With a steaming cup of Earl Grey in my hand, I continued my story.

“When I looked at all of the cases
, your daughter’s stuck out. Hers was the only case where two girls were taken. I was wondering if you could tell me about your daughter that year. Who she was friends with? Where she hung out? What she liked to do … that sort of thing.”

“I have told the story so many times. I have talked about Leslie many times. I don’t even know what might be important
anymore.”

“I wish I could tell you exactly what I
am looking for, but to be honest I don’t know. I don’t know what I am looking for, but I believe there is something. I believe I will find it.” It was a vow, a promise; to Leslie, to Emily, to Leslie’s mom sitting in front of me, and to myself. “Why don’t we start with who Leslie was friends with?”

“Leslie had so many friends. She was popular. She played sports
, softball and field hockey. She was involved at school, drama club and yearbook. She had a close friend, Regina, from field hockey. She had another friend, Lily, who was in her class. The three of them were almost inseparable. They spent so much time together. They used to go to the movies. Leslie loved the movies and shopping.” Mrs. French let out a tearful chuckle. “I used to get angry with her for spending all of her money. Seems stupid now.”