My Life Across the Table (16 page)

It was a rare comfort I felt that night in January 1978, as an unacknowledged fear softly lapped at the undercurrent of our lives in Los Angeles. Everyone was scared, with fear underlining the smiles. The city had been taken hostage by the unspeakable terror of an ongoing serial murder case. There didn’t seem to be an end to them, and I understood why the city was afraid, they had a reason to be. I had been working on these Hillside Strangler murders with the Los Angeles police department.

An impromptu evening at my friend, Lisa’s was exactly what I needed to try and take my mind off of the murders. It was a night filled with great bar-be-que, one of her exotic salads, a few nice friends and lots of laughter. The night

air was crisp, dark and clear as the six of us stood outside counting stars, and falling short of naming anything past the Big Dipper. We told corny jokes, drank lots of soft drinks, and gave in to the temptations of our abundantly filled plates. Music and laughter softly filled the air in her Los Feliz neighborhood as the hours slipped away, seemingly without a care, clinging to the safety of our friendships. I was grateful to be surrounded by people I trusted and loved. They provided a touchstone for me, a sense of safety and warmth.

We all laughed a lot that night, probably harder, longer and louder than any of our silly jokes warranted, if only to mask the terror we carried inside. A tingling feeling crept up my neck as I fleetingly thought about the last few weeks of working with the police. I kept trying to shake the brutal images from my mind.

This was the most relaxed I had felt in weeks, and I didn’t want to think about the murdered girls. I consciously pushed it to the back of my mind, making myself laugh out loud as I recalled some of the funny moments from this magical evening. I looked forward to going to sleep that night, my head filled with nothing but lovely memories.

The Hillside Strangler murders were happening all around us, within a mile from where we had innocently stood picking stars out of the carefree night sky. Women were being mutilated, murdered and dumped by roadsides, and on people’s front lawns to be found. It was a terrifying thought that another serial killer was loose in Los Angeles. There had been others in Southern California over the years, but these murders were different.

The Hillside Strangler, as this murderer was dubbed, had tortured more than the eight dead women found. His reign of terror took strong, emancipated women and made them feel vulnerable for the first time in years. Their hard earned freedom to go out for an evening in the city, had been swept away with the final breath of their first victim.

Stories filled the daily headlines as fear filled conversations were overheard everywhere. They had already tortured, raped and murdered at least eight young women, and without the slightest idea about who was committing these heinous crimes, the unspoken question hung like dew in the morning air, where would they strike next? Was there a pattern aside from the killer’s personal imprint on every lifeless body found? The police were as desperate for an answer as the frightened residents of Los Angeles.

All of the victims had been young women with varying lifestyles, and the medias thinly veiled justification of the murders due to the victims lifestyles, certainly wasn’t enough to pacify the women in Los Angeles. The savagery of the slayings repeated endlessly, screaming out from every headline, of every single newspaper, and vividly recounted on every newscast. We were continually assaulted by the gruesome details of the torture, and reminded of how seamlessly the killers moved from one victim to the next with complete anonymity.

Men felt completely helpless, as the killer had no face. He was a phantom, and they were left naked to defend the women they loved from this monster. It was a terrible time, as no one was safe in the City of Angels.

A deep tension had fallen over Los Angeles. Always known as one of the friendliest cities in the world, the people of Los Angeles stopped extending themselves. Even to each other. Markets, department stores, even gas stations, always crowded during the day, became wastelands the minute the sun went down. People simply stopped talking to each other. They stopped making eye contact, or even looking at each other, and it was the first time I had ever witnessed fear overtake an entire city.

This was a very painful case for me to work on. I had been contacted to work on the case by a liaison for the police department, and because the police were not used to consulting a psychic for anything, they didn’t like this situation one bit. They made no attempt to hide their frustration at not having solved these murders already, or their utter lack of respect for my work and having to work with a psychic at all. Their attitude didn’t stop me, because my intentions were very clear, and had nothing to do with the police. For me it was about the girls, their families, and the city I grew up in. I wanted to help the girls that had been murdered be able to rest, I wanted to help their families find as much peace as possible, and if they would allow me to, help the police get this monster off the street.

Much to my surprise, when I started to describe the Hillside Strangler, I saw that it was actually two men, not one. I described them and told the police that they were related, and that I saw them in a dark colored van. I provided the police with several hours of taped details about the two men, telling them everything I saw. I described the area they lived in, the type of work that they did, and two surprising details that had never been released to anyone in the media. The detectives were freaked out that I knew they thought the Hillside Strangler might be a cop, possibly one of their own. I assured them that neither one of these monsters were police officers, but the part that completely stunned them happened as I described in great detail, the very specific injuries and wounds that had been found on the girl’s bodies. Those even unnerved me.

As I left the party, climbing into my car to head home, I was surprised to see that it was almost three in the morning. The night had flown by, and though I had stayed much later than usual, it was definitely worth it. I couldn’t imagine anything marring the peace I felt in my heart. Not only was I wrong, but it almost cost me my life.

The streets were quiet as I slipped my car on to the freeway. It was really weird when I realized that I had the freeway all to myself. I had never seen it this empty, and after passing one other car going in the opposite direction, there wasn’t another soul in sight. I picked up speed in a hurry to get home, thankful that I lived in Studio City, and a relatively short drive on the freeway to get there.

The night was so still. I turned the radio on for company, but just as quickly snapped it off. Suddenly I had that tingling on my neck again, and the creepiest feeling that I was being watched. My rational mind kicked in and I thought how crazy that thought was. I was alone on the freeway. Who in the world could be watching me, and how? I tried to shake it off, but the feeling persisted, and wouldn’t go away.

I checked my rear view mirror, but the road was empty, not a headlight in sight. I glanced around the car, but no one was there. My heart beat faster as I leaned forward to look in my side view mirror, catching a glimpse of something in the lane right next to me, hiding in my blind spot! It was a van, and they were keeping pace with me! I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest.

I took a deep breath to calm myself down, rationalizing that they must have been there since I got on the freeway, and because I was tired, I simply hadn’t noticed them. But where did they come from? I thought that I would just slow down and let them pass me, and that would be the end of this.

I took my foot off the accelerator expecting them to whiz past me, but that is not what happened. They slowed down, dropping back to stay in my blind spot. I kept the slower speed as I leaned forward to get a better look at them in my side view mirror. Looking closely at the van, I tried to talk myself out of what my heart already knew was true. It was the dark colored van I had repeatedly described to the police over the last few weeks, and the driver and his passenger were the two men I had described as the Hillside Stranglers. They were the only people on the freeway with me, and had clearly been watching me and following me! Now I was completely terrified!
I continued staring at the face of the man in the passenger seat, jerking back into my seat as he looked directly at me in my side view mirror. My heart was racing as I began crying out loud, pleading with God to help me, “Please God, it isn’t supposed to end this way, PLEASE, PLEASE God, show me the way!”

Though my heart was still racing, I gripped the steering wheel as I loped along the freeway, now I was just trying to clear my mind. I had to come up with a plan to get myself out of this horrible situation, but I knew I wouldn’t survive this unless I calmed the hysteria in my mind.

I quickly recalled all the safety lessons I had learned from the police over the years. I had learned how to defend myself if I was out alone at night, and how to keep myself out of harms way, along with many other valuable tips. But a situation like this, where I was being chased on the freeway by two deranged, sadistic serial killers, had certainly never been addressed. There was no rule book, or safety advice for this scenario, I was completely on my own.

Suddenly it was crystal clear, and I knew what I had to do. I vividly remembered advice I had heard long ago about what to do if someone was following you. Though my situation was a whole lot worse than that, at least it was a starting point. As I crept along the freeway I realized we were still alone, and there were no other cars. I had been driving in the middle lane and wasn’t even close to an off ramp, but I had to try and get away from them, and I only had one chance to do it.

I had to plan this out as precisely as I could under the circumstances. There were a thousand things running through my mind, but I only needed two elements for this to work. The first was that I had to do something completely unexpected and the second and most critical point was that I had to make sure there was someplace that I could run in to for safety, a place that was very well lit, with people in it. The problem was that it was after three in the morning, and the city was pretty well closed up. I had to drive until I could figure out a place, close to one of the upcoming off ramps that had a parking lot at their front door. If I could solve that puzzle, then I could jump out and run inside, now the trick was to keep an eye on the van while I figured out what business would be open at that hour.

I ran through the exits coming up in my head, racing through the places near each off ramp. There was only one that I thought of that had everything I needed to save my life. The Vineland Avenue exit, and there was a convenience store two blocks away. I hoped that if I suddenly cut over and sped off the freeway that it might catch them off guard. Since I thought their van was slower and more cumbersome than my car, I could out run them. I figured if it worked, maybe I could lose them, and they would lose their opportunity to kill me.

The Vineland Avenue off ramp was coming up fast, I didn’t do anything until the last minute when I gunned the engine, cut over two lanes and flew down the off ramp. I saw the red stop light at the bottom of the ramp, but I hoped for the first time in my life that a police car would be sitting on the street as I blew through the red light.

Just as I turned onto Vineland I glimpsed the vans headlights in my rear view mirror, they had followed me off the freeway and were picking up speed. I was a block and a half away from the convenience store, all I had to do was go for it, turn the corner and jump out of the car! Breathing heavily, I pushed as hard as I could to get there, flying around the corner, I pulled up to the front door. I couldn’t believe my eyes…the lot was empty and the store was closed!

I threw the car in gear, screeching out of the driveway, catching a glimpse of the van just as they turned the corner. They were fifty yards behind me as I sped down Ventura Boulevard, without the slightest idea of where to run next, but I knew I better come up with something quick.

I was within blocks of my home, but my mother was living with me, so I had to keep them as far away from my house as possible. I was so panicked I could barely think. I looked in the rear view mirror to see they were still there.

I lived in a part of Studio City that had homes built on large lots, the area had originally been zoned for horse properties. They were lovely, quiet homes, but the street that I lived on had only one way in, to a dead end. There was no way out.

I turned onto Colfax Avenue, making another quick right, and speeding up to turn at the second street in. It was the only street that I could think of that was pitch black at night, because it didn’t have any street lights. I drove a few houses in, killing my headlights as I pulled into the driveway of someone’s house. I pulled as far back in the driveway as I could go, and as close to the house as I could get. I turned off my engine and hunkered down in my seat, twisting around to peek out to the end of the driveway.

My heart was pounding, and I was breathing so hard that I thought I was going to faint from hyperventilating. I was terrified, and they had been so persistent that, at this point, all I could do was hope that my breath wasn’t fogging up the windows in case they had figured out where I was. I quietly started to pray under my breath, pleading once again with God.

I was frozen in place, peeking between the seats, when suddenly I saw headlights flooding the street. I held my breath as I watched the van slowly pull across the end of the driveway, with a handheld flashlight directed at the back of my car. They didn’t move for what seemed like an eternity, moving the flashlight back and forth from the window of the van toward my car, but finally they crept past the driveway heading toward the dead end. I knew they would have to turn around to get out, and when they did, they slipped across the foot of the driveway, sitting there one more time, shining the flashlight in my direction, taking one last look before they left.