Leaving the city morgue, the scent of an innocent life destroyed clung to me as if to say, “Never Forget.” This was now personal.
Damn personal!
A thousand different images rushed in of my own daughter who was nearly Maria’s age. Korin’s fiery emerald green eyes sparkled brightly, as her light blond hair danced rhythmically in the breeze. Her carefree smile, lively personality and sweet spirit lit up my whole world. I shuttered uncontrollably at the thought of losing her.
What kind of monster were we hunting?
Mothers hovered over their children as communities braced for news. It was the first time I could recall experiencing real fear. Not the kind of fear associated with life threatening situations, rather—the fear of failing—never knowing—or understanding. The thought of never capturing Maria’s killer tormented me to no end.
Coming face-to-face with every parent’s worst nightmare wasn’t to be avoided, rather a moment to be embraced, and pursued at all costs.
The remainder of the day was spent at Poso Creek, searching along riverbanks with volunteers and Kern County Rescue Team members. Late into the afternoon, I broke off and worked alone. It was therapeutic and beneficial to reflect on these newfound surroundings. Treading through a crime scene, most homicide investigators feel at home. Crime scenes reveal much more than just the search for physical evidence. It’s a time of observation, reflection, and in-depth study into the mindset of a killer.
Crime scenes expose a suspect’s intelligence, patterns, relationships, and associations. It often points to motive and intent, when evaluating the method and manner used in disposing of their victim. Crime scenes push good investigators onto the next clue. Like a compass, crime scenes point in many directions.
Maria had been under the water for at least two weeks. Yet, her autopsy didn’t indicate she was tied or pinned down by a foreign object. Still, something contributed, causing Maria to remain submerged for such a lengthy period.
Drowning victims in this part of California normally remain hidden from view two to three days before resurfacing. Predominant factors to consider included temperature, time of year, and strength of current. Once the waterway dried up, I felt certain the mystery of these nagging questions would be revealed.
The autopsy confirmed that Maria didn’t drown. Her lungs were clear. Maria’s cyanotic skin condition had a blush color, instead of pale features found in drowning victims.
Normally the head and limbs hang downwards in the water and purplish discoloration of the skin is often visible in the face and extremities. But Maria didn’t have any remarkable signs of post-mortem lividity.
There wasn’t any sign of fine sticky foam in the child’s airway and no fluids were oozing out of her mouth or nostrils. No evidence of labored breathing or convulsions prior to her death.
Metabolically, decaying body composition under the water causes gas emissions to implode, along with oxygen, expanding within the human body cavity. In Maria’s case, swelling caused by bloating, softness and slippage of skin tissue, it was evident that her corpse hadn’t been exposed to sunlight for any significant period.
Maria’s killer made an uncalculated error. Her assailant didn’t factor that Maria would rise again. Using some kind of foreign object to pin her down, the killer intended to establish a comfort zone of several months before the creek bed dried up and lay barren.
He must have thought by the time the child was found, her body would be fully decayed. Weathered by the sun, any chance of forensic discovery would be destroyed.
This fiend believed the trail would be cold and stale. Instead, we had closed the gap and were fifteen days behind him.
Clearly, Poso Creek wasn’t the original murder scene. The child was dead long before her body hit the water. Most likely, she was sexually assaulted and killed somewhere else.
It was puzzling . . . Why would Maria’s abductor risk detection and capture by transporting a murdered child over several miles through different counties?
He had to be concerned about local authorities or pulled over by the California Highway Patrol. Then again, kidnapping a child in broad daylight is quite brazen. Stealing a child in public, one that’s subject to screaming and crying, by far becomes the greatest risk for exposure. The actual kidnapping itself is when the abductor is most vulnerable.
Transporting a dead child may not have been viewed as inherently risky. Any fear or reservations were replaced by the exhilaration of the ride.
On some subconscious level, the killer may have wanted to be stopped and was operating with reckless abandonment.
Anything was possible.
Dumping a kidnapped/murdered child in Poso Creek didn’t have the feel of happenstance or a fluke. It felt deliberate and premeditated.
Maria represented nothing more than a sick perverted sexual fantasy come true. If alone, her abductor knew that the child was too weak to defend herself. This sicko wouldn’t have any remorse, shame, or guilt. How could he? The end always justified the means and with freedom to roam, nothing would stand in his way.
There wouldn’t be empathy or compassion extended to her. Her attacker had no concern for the lives and dreams he destroyed. Unceasingly, the feeding of his perverted pent-up sexual desires was his only goal.
When he was done, he carefully packed up and drove to a familiar spot, then tossed the child’s body into the swift rapids. She represented nothing more than human garbage in need of immediate disposal.
The killer could then move on, and life as he knew it would return to normal.
Continuing to walk the riverbank of Poso Creek, it was my distinct impression that Maria’s killer wasn’t running away—but running to familiar surroundings. As he picked out her watery grave, I couldn’t help but wonder if he even knew her name?
Leaving Poso Creek, my read on this deceiver was much clearer. I had walked where he walked—stood where he had stood—and learned of his ways.
Child molesters, serial killers, even tyrants seem to share certain commonalities and this scourge takes on many different life forms. Their chameleon-like qualities allow them to hold down fulltime jobs. One of their greatest weapons, they can turn on the charm with a charismatic and certain appeal. Keep in mind, a sociopath in a suit, is still a monster all dressed up, and prepared for any occasion.