It’s Not Everyday You Meet a Serial Killer

Once upon a time at the workplace, at a satellite office for a staffing agency in one of the worst areas of the city. Very industrial section of the city. High crime area.

For perspective, every morning I was greeted by a prostitute’s last customer on the side of the building and a drunk c-shift worker from the factory next door that made a famous pasta sauce who would urinate on my large picture window. His form of saying good morning. My office in was in the same building as a 1-900 sex line, the teamsters, and bar that changed owners monthly instead of stopping the consist practice of serving underage alcohol. During the noon hour a group of drug dealers would set up a ‘drive thru’ lanes in the parking lot. Ingenious idea. Absolutely fascinating to watch the drive-thru clients and ease of vacating when law enforcement cruised by.

On the regular, I would interact with all on some level. I don’t judge and have a curious mind. The drug dealers were a group of 3-4 with two vehicles, would use my bathroom and get water and snacks. Talk about life and choices, each knew that legal work was better than the risk they were flirting with, but they were making four times my good salary. For a suburban girl from a middle class upbringing this was not something I was sometimes prepared for, but it taught me street smarts. The girls would trinkle down through out the day to chat. Some days busier than usual. Somedays quiet.

During this period there was a serial killer in the area; law enforcement was actively pursuing a certain individual who was targeting exploited women of the street. As with most it was just a story on the news.

Then on a normal Wednesday; which went from slow and boring to hair on the back of my neck creepy. Something was off with this older white man who came in to complete an application for work.

When you work alone, you have to have a safe plan. This was before cell phones. I place a call to our largest office and ordered fast food. That was my code for I need help. It's important to have a stay safe procedure in place. My pager wasn't going to do anything. 

I had just hung up the phone, when three of the drug dealers came in. All asked for applications to complete. One headed back to bathroom, then called out to me about the door being broken. When I went to check, he simply whispered to me that they would stay until the white dude was gone. Nothing more.

The door opened and closed. The man left. One of the kids followed out, made it clear he was watching the man and stood guard at the door. The two still in the office explained that he was dangerous and used the word evil. They explained that when they saw him come in, they knew they had to protect me. In the hood, everyone knows about everything. They knew that law enforcement still couldn’t get enough to arrest. It was a lot to take in. I was just glad he was gone.

That weekend while out with friends, one with the city and a sheriff, I happened to mention what occurred, without mentioning the kids. I was peppered with questions. Asked why I didn't call for help. He was creepy, but he wasn't aggressive towards me. I just knew I didn't want to be alone with him.

He was arrested. Face all over the news. My law enforcement friends opened up more on why it took so long to arrest. They also knew about the kids actions that day.