The Coastal Killings

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Chapter 14

For Friday morning’s breakfast Alicia prepared French toast and crispy bacon – Matt’s favorite, along with a fresh pot of hot brewed coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice.

They shared their breakfast sitting at the outdoor dining table on their spacious rear balcony. The overcast skies and gusty off-shore winds chopped up the surf conditions and made the usually pleasant coastal outlook from their balcony, grey and unappealing.

Unfortunately for Matt he still had to be at work after breakfast, but Alicia was on a rostered day off.

Alicia refilled Matt’s coffee mug and handed it to him. She gave him a pleasant and loving smile as she refilled her own cup.

After adding milk and sugar to his desired taste Matt stirred his coffee while he monitored Alicia. She held her coffee mug in both hands as she took a sip. He decided to mess with her head a little.

‘How are things coming along with you and Jason?’ he asked.

Alicia replaced her mug on the table. She held Matt’s gaze for an extended period before responding. ‘Look...’ she began, her eyes dropped to her coffee, watching it as she spun the cup on the table. ‘He’s OK...’ she said.

‘Just OK...? Problems?’ he asked.

Alicia shook her head. ‘No…No, he’s OK. When it comes to fitness training he certainly knows his stuff…’ She paused as if searching for the right words. Her eyes again lowered to her rotating coffee mug.

‘But…’ Matt said anticipating there was a “but” coming.

Alicia’s eyes flicked back to Matt. She smiled. ‘But…’ she emphasized, ‘It’s just that…’ She paused again. ‘Well…he’s not Calvin…and I miss him.’

‘How do you find him…this Jason, as a person I mean?’ Matt took a sip of his coffee while continuing to monitor her reaction.

Alicia stared blankly at her coffee mug on the table in front of her. She dusted some toast crumbs off the table. ’He’s a young man… a young good looking man. He is self-confident and has an over inflated ego…and…well, he is just not Calvin.’

Matt replaced his mug onto the table. ‘Do you have a training session with him today?’

Alicia nodded. ‘Yeah, at 9.30am. He wants to hold today’s workout on the beach.’ She glanced towards the uninviting beach conditions below. ‘But I doubt that’s going to happen today,’ she said.

Matt looked at his watch. ‘Shoot.’ He pushed himself away from the table. ‘I gotta go. Just got time to brush my teeth and fly.’

Alicia watched Matt as he rose from his chair and quickly move into the house.

About five minutes later he returned, gave her a kiss goodbye and he was gone to fight the traffic in his daily commute.

On his way to work Matt noticed the front page banners at the newspaper stands all referenced yesterday’s Mission Hills rape and murder.

He decided to stop off and purchase a copy of the U-T San Diego. He still can’t get used to this new name. He preferred it when the daily newspaper was known as The San Diego Union-Tribune.

After parking his car in the Bureau car park he remained seated in his car while he read the front page article reporting on yesterday’s killing.

“Police Hunt Coastal Killer,” he read as a devious smile emerged across his face. This was perfect. He could cut out this article and keep it with the Sarah Sanderson article from yesterday.

If everything went to plan, he would plant these cut-out newspaper articles, and any others he was able to accumulate along the way, in Jason’s house. Although circumstantial, it was a known fact that some serial killers kept scrap books, records or mementos of their killing sprees. Dahmer kept the dismembered body parts from his young male victims in a refrigerator, freezer and jars.

The newspaper articles were just something else he could use towards framing the pitiful Jason.

His heart rate was elevated and his mouth was dry during the lonely drive over to Hillcrest. The feeling in the pit of his stomach was unsettling. At one stage he thought he would have to pull over to be sick, but he pushed through – he fought it off and kept going.

After arriving in the leafy suburb of Hillcrest he made his way to the park land he earlier scouted as a suitable out-of-the-way location to conceal his car. He couldn’t afford to be seen in this area tonight.

Once inside the park land he drove deep into the bowels of the grounds. He parked his car in an area completely obscured from any roads, or houses by a forest of trees and thick foliage.

The darkened figure unfolded himself from his car and stood by the open door, scanning the immediate area. His eyes and ears searched to detect any movement or activity emanating from the all-enveloping darkness.

He looked up at the blackened night sky and smiled. The cloudy overcast conditions provided a dark moonless night. The wind was gusty and cool, which meant that only the dedicated would be out on foot tonight. It was perfect.

The constant heavy rains from two nights ago threw out his entire plans. Walking through mud and water soaked lawns and grounds would increase the risk of leaving evidence somewhere, so he had to reschedule everything to tonight. He looked at the conditions. He couldn’t have ordered a more appropriate night.

He quietly closed the driver’s door and opened the trunk. After rummaging around inside he removed some items and placed them in the front pocket of his black hoodie. Using the light from the trunk he checked the time on his watch. It was 9.35pm. She would be home from the gym by now and probably even showered.

He lowered the trunk lid, leaning forcefully on it until he heard the click. He couldn’t risk drawing attention to himself from the distinctive thud of closing doors reverberating across the isolated park into the still of the night.

He draped his black hood over his head. He then scanned the area once more as a final check - All clear. With his head lowered, he plunged his hands into his hoodie’s front pocket and commenced the two block walk towards Dovetail Road – number 1408 in particular.

Keeping deep in the shadows wherever possible, his dark silhouetted outline skulked furtively along Dovetail Road. His eyes and ears were honed to his surroundings, looking for any sounds or movement. He noted that most houses he passed were in total darkness.

After arriving at number 1408 he continued walking about four or five doors up the street conducting a reconnaissance of the neighboring properties. There were no dogs barking that could bring unnecessary attention and everyone was inside, in bed or out for the night. He then quickly crossed the street and returned down the other side. Same result.

Satisfied with his recon, he moved to a suitably darkened position between street lights. Following a check of his surrounds he crossed the road and made his way to number 1408.

He stood off to the side, near the side fence with number 1406 while he conducted one last visual scan of the vicinity. All was still clear. He quickly stepped over the low picket fence and moved into the front yard of number 1408. He was immediately swallowed up into front yard’s abyss-like darkness.

The veil of darkness provided cover while he crouched down near the side access gate. He reached into his hoodie pocket and removed a pair of latex gloves. Quietly and carefully he slid them onto his hands, snapping them in place. His honed senses continued to monitor his surrounds. He then removed a black full-face balaclava, pushed off his hood and slipped it over his head before replacing his hood over the top.

He hadn’t previously considered the chance of being identified as an issue, especially when it was expected that all his victims ultimately died. But when his first victim survived after he was unexpectedly interrupted, it was luck, more than good planning, that she never got to see his face before he attacked her.

He could therefore not risk being identified again. So moving forward from the first time, he now chose to wear a full-face balaclava – just to be sure.

Everything had been planned to the finest detail. Earlier in the week he visited this very address and was able to gain access to the young female occupant’s home under the pretense that with her living on her own, he was concerned for her safety.

He convinced her that he wanted to check all the doors and windows were properly secured. She was completely compliant and trusting. That was her first mistake. She even thanked him for his concern.

When he was supposedly checking the locks, he was actually gaining an understanding of her house and the layout of the floor plan. He noticed the young woman’s rear door led into the back yard from the laundry.

Immediately to the right of the back door was a laundry sink. Above the laundry sink was a small sliding window about two feet by one foot that looked out into the backyard. The locking mechanism on the window was a black plastic lever positioned half way up the leading edge of the sliding window.

When he checked her laundry door was properly secured, he surreptitiously unlocked the small sliding window by disengaging the window’s lock, just enough to unlock the window, but leaving it closed enough so as not to be easily detected.

Sitting in this position the plastic lock gave the impression it was engaged. This was to be his point of entry when he later returned.

Carefully and quietly in the complete darkness his blackened silhouette made its way down the side of the house. When he passed under the kitchen window he noticed the light was on, but the shade was drawn.

He continued down the side and made his way to the rear door. The laundry window’s shades were not drawn, which made his job easier. Even better, the internal laundry door that led into the adjoining hall, was closed.

Slowly and quietly he edged the sliding window open, pausing at intervals to monitor any movement from inside the house. Once the window was open enough he removed a rolled cloth from his hoodie pocket and flicked it open. He placed it over a drain pipe from the laundry sink that protruded from the wall. He stood on the cloth covered drain pipe and reached in through the window and unlocked the back door.

He lifted the cloth and rolled it back up and replaced it into his hoodie pocket. Next, he quietly opened the back door and moved inside. He carefully and quietly closed the back door, locking it. He paused momentarily while he listened to make sure he was not heard. Next, he quietly slid the window closed until he heard the lock click into place. His point of entry was now disguised.

His darkened shape stood in the middle of the pitch black laundry. All he could hear was the blood pumping in his ears as his anxiety levels started to rise. His stomach started to knot up with the tension of what he was about to do. Killing these young women never got any easier for him, but it was something he just had to do. It was out of his control.

He grabbed the laundry door handle and slowly turned it. He peeled the door open about one quarter inch and peeped out through the thin slit. The hall outside the laundry was in darkness, but the lights in the kitchen and family room up the hall were all on. Music played at a moderate sound level; not enough to mask any screams though.

He suddenly pulled back from looking through the door when he saw something move into his view from the obscured right side. He recalled that was the area of the bathroom. He moved his eyes back to the slender opening just in time to notice his young prey moving away from him down the hall. She disappeared from view into the kitchen.

She wore a white towel around her body and had a white towel wrapped around her head, like an over sized turban.

He opened the door a little further and looked to his right, towards the bathroom. The door was open and the light was off, but the dense heavy steam that had accumulated during her hot shower still hovered in the atmosphere.

Now was his time. He opened the door slowly and moved out into the hall. Sliding his way along the wall he moved with the stealth of a trained ninja. His ears were tuned into every sound. He could hear her singing along to the music. The kitchen tap was running.

He cautiously arrived at the juncture where the hall opened out into the kitchen on the left and the family room to the right. With his back firmly pressed against the wall he slowly peeked around the corner to the kitchen. His victim stood at the sink with her back to him drinking a glass of water. He quickly checked the family room to his right. No unexpected visitors. Now was the time.

He quickly moved out from the security of the darkened hall and moved directly towards his victim. She had just rinsed her glass under the tap and inverted it on the sink drainer and started to turn towards him.

He saw the whites of her widening eyes as her fear started to register. But before she could react to the sight of the balaclava clad man in front of her, he struck out at her with the speed of a rattle snake, delivering a powerful short, sharp right hook to her jaw. She was instantly knocked unconscious.

He thought he heard her jaw crack from the force of the powerful blow. She wouldn’t have known what hit her. She was out on her feet. Her body fell limp.

He grabbed her and assisted her down to the floor. The towel covering her body unwrapped and fell to the floor. He stood for a moment and examined her naked body.

He had to move quickly before she awoke. He grabbed her ankles and dragged her away from the kitchen sink into the center of the room. Moving with precision like dexterity he removed the black duct tape from his hoodie pocket and tightly wrapped it around her wrists, securing them together. He severed the tape using the flick knife he brought with him. He then lifted her bound arms and placed them on the ground above her head.

Next he cut off two strips of tape and placed one over her eyes and the other over her mouth. He stood back and once again examined her naked lifeless body on the floor in front of him. His pulse raced as his arousal levels started to peak.

It was not until he had his victim’s immobilized that this inexplicable rush of power engulfed him. It excited him to see these helpless women naked in front him. He could do anything he wanted to them and it strangely aroused him to uncontrollable levels.

It was always his intentions to just strangle the girls and leave them to be discovered. But when he saw their naked, bound and gagged bodies, he felt an uncontrollable urge that he couldn’t resist. He had to force himself on them. He knew it was wrong, but he just couldn’t resist the temptation.

While standing looking down at his victim his pulse raced. His heart beat so heavily he could feel it thumping against his sternum. He removed a condom from his hoodie pocket, ripped it open and returned the wrapper back to his pocket. Keeping his pants on, he flicked his erect penis out though his fly and rolled on the condom.

With her lying on her back he kicked her legs apart before lowering himself down towards his motionless victim.

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