The Stranger Beside Me
to King County Police, the man law enforcement officers sought was on the prowl again, about to strike audaciously, virtually in full view of dozens of witnesses-and still remain only a phantom figure. He would thumb his nose at police, leaving them as frustrated as they had ever been in the series of crimes that had already both galled and horrified them; many of the detectives searching for the missing girls had daughters of their own.
    It was almost as if it were some kind of perverse game of challenge on the part of the abductor, as if, each time, he would come a little further out of the shadows, take more chances, to prove that he could do what he wanted and still not be caught, or even seen. Georgeann Hawkins, at eighteen, was one of those golden girls for whom luck or fate had dealt a perfect hand-until the inexplicable night of June 10th. Raised in the Tacoma suburb of Sumner, she'd been a Daffodil Princess, and, like Susan Rancourt, a cheerleader, an honor student at Lakes High School. She had a vivacious, pixielike quality to her loveliness, glossy long brown hair, and lively brown eyes. She was tiny-five feet, two inches tall, 115 pounds-healthy in a glowing way, the youngest of two daughters of the Warren B. Hawkins family.

THE STRANGER BESIDE ME
    67
    While many good students in high school tend to find the University of Washington's curriculum much more difficult and drop to a comfortable C average, Georgeann had continued to maintain a straight A record. Her biggest worry during that finals week of June, 1974 was that she was having a difficult time with Spanish. She considered dropping the course, but, on the morning of June 10th, she had phoned her mother and said she was going to cram for the next day's final as hard as she could, and she thought she could handle it.
    She already had a summer job lined up-with Pierce County in Tacoma-and she'd discussed it by phone with her parents at least once a week. During rush week in September of 1973, Georgeann had been tapped by one of the top sororities on campus, Kappa Alpha Theta, and lived in the big house among several other Greek houses along 17th Avenue N.B. Residents of the sororities and fraternities along Greek Row visit back and forth much more freely than they did back in the fifties when it was strictly forbidden for members of the opposite sex to venture above the formal living rooms on the first floor. Georgeann frequently dropped in to see her boyfriend, who lived in the Beta Theta Pi House six houses down from the Theta House.
    During the early evening hours of Monday, June 10th, Georgeann and a sorority sister had gone to a party where they'd had one or two mixed drinks. Georgeann explained that she had to get back to study for her Spanish exam. But, first, she was going to stop by the Beta House and say goodnight to her boyfriend.
    Georgeann was cautious; she rarely went anywhere on campus alone at night, but the area along 17th Avenue N.B. was so familiar, so well-lighted, and there was always someone around she knew. The fraternal organizations front the street on each side, with a grassy island running down the middle. Trees, in full leaf in June, do block out some of the street lights; they've grown so tall since they were planted back in the twenties.
    The alley that runs in back of the Greek houses from 45th N.B. to 47th N.B. is as bright as day, lit by street lights every ten feet or so. June 10th was a warm night, and every window opening onto the alleyway was open. It is doubtful that any of the student residents were asleep, even at midnight;
    68

THE STRANGER BESIDE ME
    most of them were cramming for finals with the aid of black coffee and No-Doz.
    Georgeann did go to the Beta House, a little before 12:30 A.M. on June 11th. She visited with her steady boyfriend for a half hour or so, borrowed some Spanish notes, and then said goodnight and left by the back door to walk the ninety feet down to the back door of the Theta House.
    One of the

Similar Books

Small g

Patricia Highsmith

The Widows Choice

Hildie McQueen

Spirit of Progress

Steven Carroll