Tags:
True Crime,
Murder,
Serial Killers,
forest,
oregon,
portland,
eugene,
blood lust,
serial murder,
gary c king,
dayton rogers
approached
Oregon City a few minutes later, the man calling himself Steve,
guzzling the beer, turned off at a location which Heather could not
adequately describe to the deputy. Although she felt like she had
become lost, she said that they appeared to be on a logging road
somewhere past Oregon City. Turner guessed that he had taken her on
one of the logging roads just off the Molalla Forest Road.
When the man continued to drive on and on,
Heather finally asked him where they were going. He responded that
he was going to drive into the hills and said that he wanted to
"tie someone up and fuck them." The statement had frightened
Heather, and when he moved to touch her thigh, she pushed his hand
away. She insisted that he take her back to Portland, but he
refused and sped up to about forty miles per hour on the unpaved
logging road.
Heather grabbed her shoes off the floor,
ready to make a break for it when the time was right. But the man
caught her eyeing the door handle, and he reacted instantly. He
swerved the pickup recklessly, so she would lose her sense of
balance, and reached toward her, placing his hand over her chest to
prevent her from jumping out of the truck. He then stepped on the
accelerator and was soon speeding to more than sixty miles per
hour.
Although she had been terrified that she
would be raped or killed, Heather never gave up. She continued to
struggle violently and when they approached a curve she managed to
break free of the man's hold. As soon as she spotted a log truck
behind them, she opened the door and jumped from his speeding
pickup. The suspect slowed his vehicle a little but, apparently
aware of the truck following him, kept on going.
When the logger rounded the curve, he saw
Heather lying in the road and slammed on his brakes. Seeing that
she was injured and grateful that he hadn't hit her, he helped her
into the cab of his rig. One of her eyes was bleeding, which he
helped her to cover, and she had other scrapes and cuts. She told
the logger that she had to jump out of the man's pickup because he
was going to kill her. Since she was obviously very shook up, the
logger didn't probe her with questions. Instead, he arranged to
have her driven to a medical clinic in Molalla, where it was
determined that she had suffered a concussion and multiple
abrasions to her left temple area, right forearm, and hand.
When Turner finished reading Deputy
Strosser's report, he found himself wondering if Heather might have
been a prostitute but had deliberately avoided revealing that fact
to Strosser. The incident had begun in a high vice area of Portland
known for prostitution, and the circumstances under which she was
picked up naturally prompted him to consider whether or not she had
been soliciting. Instinct told him it was more likely than not that
she had been, but from the details contained in the report there
was just no way he could tell for certain.
Nonetheless, Turner dutifully telephoned
Heather and explained that he needed to meet with her in person to
construct a composite of the suspect using an Identa-kit. She
agreed to meet him at a Sheri's restaurant in the Oregon City
Shopping Center later that day, but she didn't show up at the
mutually agreed upon time. Turner waited patiently for half an
hour, then returned to headquarters. With little else to go on
except Heather's sketchy statement, Turner filed the report of the
incident and pushed it into the back of his mind. For the time
being.
PART ONE
The Final Kill
Chapter 1
It has been said that bloodlust is an
aberration unique to the human animal, that when it occurs, it does
so without purpose and has no reverence for the normal needs
intrinsic to humankind survival. The aberration—for that is what it
really is—is clearly sexual and all evil, and it rears its diabolic
head when its host fails to achieve sexual gratification in any
other way. As a result, many—particularly women and children—who
unwittingly come into contact with
Learning to Kill: Stories