Melanie's Journey

by Michael Cross

  At this point he knelt over the poor young woman, who even at this distance we could observe was shaking and squirming in agony. He removed the tape and then the binding on her arms and legs but she did not scream nor try to get up—she was crying and appeared to be desperately pleading with him, but her exact words were hardly audible enough for us to make out.

  Nicole whispered, “Go back to his car, don’t touch anything with bare fingers, and see if there is anything that identifies who this guy is. I’ll wait here but be careful—and for both of our sakes don’t get us caught!” Nicole’s instructions burned deep into my mind for good reason.

  I crept back to the car with the care of some guerrilla combatant. The passenger door was not shut so now was my chance. Pulling my sweater over my hands I started my search and to my amazement I found his registration with the name Frank Reid in big, bold letters along with his address. Then I noticed what appeared to be a wadded up utility bill on the floor with the same name and address. This was incredible! I figured he would not miss the bill so I put it into my pocket.

  I then spotted a little handbag in the back seat—not the kind you take shopping, but rather to a special occasion. I probed inside, careful to not let anything make contact with my skin. I found her license—her name was Malin Graham and she was 20 years old. Her address was near an area with several colleges so she was probably a student. If this was indeed the serial killer she would fit the profile of the victims so far.

  I found a picture of her (tucked behind her money and credit cards) in a graduation gown with what must have been her parents and two young boys, probably her brothers. I put everything back but then, for some reason, decided to keep the picture. I don’t know why I did this, but I did. Then I made sure nothing showed I had been there as I did not want either to join her or be connected to him if the cops did catch Mr. Reid in the future.

  I crept back, careful not to even step on a tiny twig and alert him to our presence. I saw Nicole and pulled up beside her. “What has happened?” I asked but Nicole only answered with, “Never mind right now, did you find anything?” I nodded and said, “Oh yeah, I know who both of them are.” Nicole said “Great” and then made a gesture towards the man and girl. What I saw looked more like a scene out of one of Nicole’s favorite movies—this being the only way to describe it. He had apparently been busy with her while I was gone. I saw him take something from his bag and he proceeded to undertake more of his ghoulish pleasures on her. At that moment, Nicole motioned for us to get out of there. We took great care to get back to our bikes and hurry up the road. Then we rushed onto an isolated deer trail to hide until we were certain he was done and would drive away.

  We sat down, caught our breath, and waited. “Nicole, what exactly did I miss?” She looked at me and said, “Maybe you don’t want to know, but then again…” She told me what she had witnessed and in the time period I was in his car it seemed he had done more to her than one might expect in an entire horror movie with a dozen sequels.

  It was around 2:30 that we heard a car door shut and what appeared to be a car driving off soon afterward. We decided we should go back and check out the scene—not expecting to find the girl still alive but more out of curiosity. We left the bikes where we had originally hidden them and walked back to the clearing.

  We did not see the body at first, but then looked down a crevice a few yards away from where she had been tied. She was lying naked there in a fetal position. Nicole checked for any sign of life but concluded, “No pulse…she’s dead. Just as well though, I mean not only is she pretty messed up, but if she were alive and we called for help the last thing we need is someone investigating us.” Her logic was cold, but absolutely correct. I was a bit worried to tell Nicole about the picture but I figured this was the time—and when I described everything she was not only okay with it, she was quite glad I had it. She looked at the portrait and then put it into one of her little plastic bags.

  “So what makes this killer tick?” I asked. Strange, here we were also engaged in this activity yet analyzing another killer. “Well, we need to put together his behavior while he was with her, as well as what he did to the body.” Nicole stated as we became amateur detectives with the unique position of having witness her demise, as well as having her still warm corpse to examine.

  Of course we had to be careful not to touch the body except with sticks—like some children might do upon finding fresh road kill on the side of the road and prodding it to see what’s there. Her arms were incredibly bruised, and one could see fractured bone sticking out of the skin of her left arm. Then we noticed, the weirdest of all things, her ring finger had been cut off!

  Nicole asked, “Do you see her finger anywhere?” I looked around but I couldn’t find it. Nicole commented, “This is really fascinating, he must have removed it and taken it with him!” Nicole repeated that he had raped her while I was in the car in an unconventional manner Nicole went into more specific details of what she had seen him do while I was gone—I could only look at the body before me and wonder why someone like her had to go through such torture the last moments of her life.

  We did not see any stab wounds on her torso or neck, and even though he had amputated her finger there was not that much blood. Then Nicole let out a surprised, “Oh wow, look here!” as she grabbed my arm. She moved the girl’s head to the side with her stick and there it was—a large nail was embedded in her ear…he had driven it through her head! This was quite bizarre. Other than the nail and the removal of the finger nothing else seemed noteworthy. He had merely drug the body over to the ravine and slung it over after he was through with her. Her clothing was torn and merely tossed into the ravine beside her—that was the only attempt to hide the body.

  By now it was getting to be late afternoon and we were still quite some distance from Nicole’s car. I took comfort that at least it was not visible from the road. However, what Nicole said next was rather spooky, “You know, some murderers come back to the body for one reason or another.” I stopped and answered, “Okay, so here we are on bikes, it will be dark soon in the middle of nowhere…this is just wonderful!”

  We weighed our alternatives and agreed staying overnight in the woods would not be feasible—besides there was a greater chance of his return the next day than in the late afternoon of the same day. We could not reach the guys since our phones wouldn’t work, and they were not even home anyway, so it was off to the car after I took a few pictures with my cell phone. I figured Mark and Daniel would want to see.

  The adrenaline was high and we probably made record time back to the car even though we were extremely apprehensive about what we might encounter as we rounded each corner. By the time we made it back it was almost totally dark, and we wasted no time mounting our bikes on the car and getting away from there as quickly as we could. We both were relived once we reached the main road, and so then we started the process of analyzing the details of the scene. I suspected it would be a sleepless night anyway so when Nicole asked if we might drive to Cottage Grove and tell the guys what had happened I quickly agreed. I wondered how Mark would react to our near encounter with a serial murderer.

  When we called the guys Nicole merely said something terrible had happened and Mark suggested meeting us at an all-night restaurant. We spared no time rushing down I-5 to meet them. When they saw the pictures and heard of the events they were totally astounded. Mark looked at me with sympathetic eyes and asked if I were okay, and then, to my surprise, he gave me a tight hug and told me how extremely happy he was that nothing had happened to me. When he started to let go I grasped him again and re-established the embrace—we held each other for a minute or so.

  Then Daniel motioned us to sit down and look at his computer screen—he had transferred the pictures onto his hard drive. We explained the tortures, the missing finger and the nail. Then we all turned to Mark for some sort of hypothesis.

  He was silent for a moment and then, after carefully looking around to
make sure nobody could hear, he gave his ideas, “I believe the breaking of the arms was functional for him as well as symbolic. First, it immobilized her so he could have his way—you said he began sexually abusing her before you left, right?” We nodded and we leaned in closer to hear more, “Okay, you said he was heavy set, as in overweight, but not a big guy, so breaking her arms would allow him to do whatever he wanted. I’d say he’s not only a sexual sadist but also enjoys the act of making his victim unable to function—like a little kid pulling the wings off of a fly.” Mark continued, “Since he removed the tape from her mouth he wanted to hear his victim beg for mercy—I doubt he killed her until she was practically dead already, and the final act was something she could not make resistance, yet knowing full well that once the nail was put against her ear this was how she would die. This guy receives a feeling of power over his victim—violating them in the most horrific manner while they are fully conscious but unable to stop him.”

  Daniel asked about the finger to which Mark speculated, “It’s a trophy, something symbolic perhaps in that it is where one places a wedding ring. He probably didn’t cut it off until she was dead, so it would be the final climax of the act. Maybe he considers his victims are symbolically married to him upon death. It’s not uncommon for serial murderers you know.” Mark further speculated, “The way he leaves the body implies he is finished with her, I doubt you were in any danger of him returning to the scene as some sadists do. He has his memory in her finger—it’s even doubtful he saves any clippings from the press about any slayings. And he is no amateur, he’s most definitely the guy who has been killing young women in the area. All the victims featured on the news have been in their late teens or early twenties. Another thing I think—he leaves the scene in total chaos and this is probably indicative that he’s impulsive—he probably doesn’t even plan out his abductions and murders in advance. He just goes out and finds a woman when she is away from the eyes of others. I’d say if he is this impulsive he is of average IQ and is not employed in any job with responsibility.”

  Daniel replied, “So here we are—we have this guy’s address, name…and while this guy may not be the most intellectual target, he is capable of anything.” I responded, “All the more of a challenge!” to which everyone looked to me waiting for me to say more. I sat back and remained quiet, and then Mark took over again, “We need to create a good strategy to get this guy—Daniel, you want to go with me Sunday and check out his house?” Daniel was enthusiastic about this. Then Mark apologized and stated that he had to get back to the hotel before the other students might wake up and wonder what he was doing.

  Mark said he would study up on serial killers with similar behavioral patters once he got home Saturday afternoon. We could meet up again Sunday afternoon after he and Daniel scoped out his home. He said he had an appointment Saturday night so we could not meet then, which totally bugged me since he was undoubtedly meeting Cindy for a date. Oh well, she would not get him without a fight. Then, as if this wasn’t enough, he said that he would be busy with some planning sessions between the English and Social Studies departments on Monday and Tuesday afternoon. Our next rendezvous would not be until Wednesday. Then as I found I was blankly looking out the window, away from my friends, Mark placed his hand on my arm and gently asked if I was sure I was all right. I smiled and even though I was perfectly fine I told him I was still a bit shaken which gave me the desired effect, his embrace before he departed.

  As they left, I thought about the irony of this being a day of relaxation, Nicole’s gift to me for my 18th. birthday, and then coming face to face with a murderer who lacked any intellect, any purpose, just an animal looking for young women to kill. Yet there behind a bush, young women who both probably fit the profile of his ideal victims, were the ones who would plan out his date with destiny. And I thought a moment of the woman we had seen murdered. I wondered if anyone would miss her this evening; Her parents perhaps, her brothers, wondering where she was in case they called, or if a worried roommate called them to ask where she was. And where was she? She was probably being eaten by scavengers at the moment I was pondering her in my thoughts.

  I did not feel sad, I just wondered about the purpose of life as Nicole and I drove back to Portland. One minute you are planning for classes, maybe even wondering who you will marry, how many kids you will have, and then the next minute you are in the car of a guy who is going to kill you. It seemed such a waste of life and potential.

  Then I thought about the question that still consumed me even when I thought about what I had witnessed that day. Would Cindy win Mark over before I could officially start in the race for his affection? I was really bothered by that. Yet little did I realize how events would act again to cause the fates of all the people in my little world to intercept in the most unimaginable way.

  Chapter 19

  Nicole and I drove back to Portland knowing that we would not arrive back in our neighborhood until at least 4am. It had been a long day to say the least—it felt like a lifetime of events compacted into one day…no… that would be a wrong way to describe it since few people experience what I had during their entire lives.

  As we came closer to Portland I asked Nicole to turn down the music and then I asked if she could come over and sleep at my house, to which she agreed. Maybe we could have some time relaxing before Daniel got back from the tournament, free of interruption—which was, ironically, the original plan for Friday.

  When we got home and we both immediately fell asleep on my bed, even though my mind was still busy trying to make sense of the whole Cindy thing. I awoke just a couple of hours later suddenly pondering the murder we had witnessed. I wanted to talk with Nicole but she was fast asleep. So I just got up and sat in my window staring out to nowhere. I felt totally alone for some reason, like the only living person on earth, yet I knew that was not the case.

  Then I wondered, was life merely a series of accidental encounters, and the people we meet just by chance, or was there a deeper meaning? I looked at Nicole peacefully sleeping in my bed—was I there with her because I was meant to be? Had our spirits had a connection even before this life? Was it out of my control who I would eventually be with? Then the thought came—why did we of all people wind up witnessing what we had? Could it merely be that Nicole knew I liked isolated nature so she and I just happened to be where Mr. Reid, who wanted the same isolation but for different reasons, would take someone to kill? And what of the coincidence of him choosing this day to act?

  If we were there by destiny then it must have been to take him out. It seemed all too easy to find out the most critical information about him—leaving us with the task of doing him in. And yes, he would be our crowning trophy. Then I wondered, had our activities been part of some big plan to prepare us for this mission? I wondered what would happen if we failed. The worse case scenario would be my lying on the ground looking up at him as he went about smashing my body—it was unlikely, but it could happen.

  As Nicole slept, I took the opportunity to open her purse and take the picture out, careful not to touch it with my bare hands though. I did not know why but as I looked at the woman we saw die, and her brothers, and I knew I would avenge her. It was strange though, it was not as though I cared for her as a person, but maybe I saw someone in a family I wish I had been in, or one I wanted in the future, and felt angry that this guy ended what took years to accomplish just for his sick pleasure. And instead of her getting an education, getting married and having children of her own she was now just so much meat disposed of in a forest few people ever ventured into.

  I put the picture back and then just sat there, blank in thought for a moment before hearing Nicole wake up. I was so happy to be able to greet her and spend time together but was devastated when she said that she would have to go home before lunch. I tried to get her to change her mind but she wanted to get a few things done and then spend time with Daniel when he returned earlier in the afternoon. We talked a while about life
after we re-examined the events of the day before she had to go. I looked around the house after she departed and found I was completely alone. Normally I did not mind but now it was indeed a burden.

  I sat down and wrote an e-mail to Mark, but I realized that I would not get a reply that day. He would return, get ready, and then be with Cindy. That thought was worse than the loneliness. It was strange though, normally I could find some comfort in fantasizing about someone’s demise or misfortune, but I knew Cindy liked me so it did not give any pleasure to mentally abuse her.

  I laid on my bed feeling sorry for myself and then passed out—waking around 4:30pm. Knowing that Mark would return home around then I checked my e-mails—nothing! I sat there disappointed but then took out my textbooks and tried to return to my “normal” life. I checked again, and again…nothing. It felt like my room was a prison cell and nobody cared at all about me. I looked later and noticed Daniel had sent me some funny web links—I appreciated that because I needed some humor. I laughed, sighed, and after reading for a while fell asleep again.

  On Sunday morning I was awoken by my mom banging on my door and telling me that Nicole and Daniel were waiting for me in the kitchen. I was surprised that Daniel had changed the plan and that he wanted to take Nicole and me by Reid’s house.

  “Melanie, Mark is totally caught up in looking for information on similar killer patterns. I guess he has been obsessed with it since he got home yesterday and wants to continue today.” I liked to hear that since that meant he had less mental energy to devote to Cindy, and I figured that the more we knew about this guy the better chance we had of trapping him and treating him to something similar to what he liked to do to young women.