Confession by Gary Whitmore - HTML preview

Chapter 31

Three weeks passed, and the FBI lab confirmed that the remains found in the plastic were those of the five girls killed by the October Slayer.

The FBI made the formal announcement that deceased author Allan Stein was the October Slayer who eluded being captured his entire life.

Up in Curtis, Mississippi, Billy was out of jail, on bail, and sitting in his office. He was steaming when he shared the news about Allan being identified as the October Slayer.

Judy entered his office.

“Mister Stein, you have some visitors,” Judy said.

“I don’t want to be bothered,” Billy snapped.

Peter barged in with two other FBI agents and four Mississippi State Troopers.

“Mister Stein, I’m Peter Bronson of the FBI. I have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Angie Gardner,” Peter said.

Billy didn’t have his typical smart-ass smirk when he saw everybody. He got scared and started trembling.

Sam watched outside Billy’s office while they escorted him away, handcuffed. He fought the urge to beat the crap out of him.

But life for Becky began heading in another direction.

Outside her house, numerous TV Vans were parked along her street. All her neighbors stood outside and rubbernecked with all the media attention. They couldn’t believe the news they heard.

Out on the sidewalk, Deena Moore, a reporter for Channel 9 news, stood in front of her cameraman with Becky’s house in the background.

“I’m Deena Moore from Channel Nine News. The FBI has recently announced that retired FBI agent Sam Woods has found the identity of the October Slayer. To make this case even more bizarre, the killer was the author who wrote the book A Killer’s Tale. It appears the author, Allan Stein, used his book as his confession. But Mister Stein passed away from cancer just before the book got published. So he will never spend a day in prison for the murders he committed so many years ago,” Deena said in front of the camera.

Numerous other TV news stations stood in front of their cameramen while they reported the same news story.

Inside Becky’s house, it was quiet. Becky and Marty drove Michael and Nancy to her parents’ house the second they were told the FBI officially identified Allan as the October Slayer. They didn’t want them at home when the media circus started

A loud knock on the front door. “Miss Adams, would you like to comment on your father being a serial killer?” the news reporter said from outside. The reporter knocked again on her front door.

In her bedroom, Becky sat on the bed with Marty. Her eyes were red and watery from crying all day.

Becky looked at the pictures of Michael and Nancy on the dresser. She suddenly looked worried. “What if some type of serial killer gene skips a generation?”

“Honey, there’s no such thing. Don’t worry yourself to death,” Marty said, then put an arm around her for comfort.

They heard more knocks on their front door.

Over in Daytona Beach, Sam and Cindy relaxed in his living room and watched a movie on the TV.

Sam removed the Glock and Bo’s wallet from under his sofa a little while ago. He gave it to the Daytona Beach police, who sent it to the Jackson police department for further evidence.

“I’m so glad you finally installed your alarm system,” Cindy told Sam.

But Sam didn’t respond since his mind was off thinking about the past events.

“Sam? Are you listening?” she asked.

“I have this feeling I’m still missing something. There’s still something unresolved,” Sam said.

“You solved the case, Sam. There’s nothing else to worry about.”

Sam had this burning hunch in his gut, got up, and opened his cell phone.

“Hey, Sam,” Peter answered Sam’s call.

“Thanks for pressing forward with the evidence,” Sam told him.

“My pleasure,” Peter replied.

“Listen, I just thought of something. I’d recommend someone in Mississippi check Billy Stein’s home computer and house. He had a thing for young girls. Especially rape,” Sam recommended.

“I’ll have someone check into it and get back to you,” Peter said.

“Thanks,” Sam said, then disconnected the call.

He returned to the sofa and sensed Cindy was getting upset with him.

“Sorry, honey. There’s just one more thing I want them to nail Billy Stein with,” he said, then sat down. Then his eyes widened, remembering something Billy had said in his den.

He jumped up and ran out of the room.

Cindy looked concerned while she watched Sam.

Sam ran into his den and quickly sat down at his computer. He turned it on, and the second it booted up, he searched for pictures and videos. There they were, numerous pictures and videos of child porno. He quickly deleted them and then cleared his Internet history.

Two days have passed, and the media finally quit hounding Becky’s house.

Sam drove to Mobile, Alabama, and went to the Woodland Park Cemetery.

Sam walked through the cemetery with two potted plants in hand.

He stopped at two headstones.

One was for Gary Gardner, born July 18, 1932, and died May 2, 1996. The other one was for Angie Gardner, born August 1, 1940, and died October 20, 1965.

Sam knelt down and placed a potted plant by each headstone. “Sorry it took so long, my friend.”

He stood up and walked away.

His cell phone rang.

“Sam Woods,” he answered.

“It’s Peter. We had someone from the Jackson office check Billy Stein’s home computer, and we found tons of child porno. Besides, we found numerous old black-and-white photos of underage naked African American girls. He won’t be getting out of prison while he’s alive,” Peter told Sam from his cell phone.

“That’s great! And I bet those black and white photos were of the young girls he raped in the sixties,” Sam replied.

“That might be hard to prove. But we found something else, and I need you to come by the office as soon as possible,” Peter said.

“What’s up?”

“You’ll see when you get here,” Peter replied. “I’ll be there tomorrow,” Sam said, then disconnected the call.

Sam walked out of the cemetery and was curious about whatever Peter discovered.

Sam spent the night in a Mobile hotel.

The next morning, he got up early and drove straight to Tampa.

Later that day, Sam arrived at the FBI office in Tampa. Peter walked into Peter’s office.

“What’s going on?” Sam said while he knocked on Peter’s office door.

While we searched Billy Stein’s house, we found this taped to the inside of his desk in his den,” Peter said, then handed Sam a folder.

Sam opened the folder and saw an old form inside. He looked the form over and was shocked. He was even more shocked when he saw an old black-and-white picture stapled to the form. “Oh, my God!”

“I thought that might be important. Plus, the IRS contacted us and wants Billy Stein investigated for making trips to Asia for underage sex and deducting it as a business expense,” Peter added.

“Becky might be relieved once she learns about this,” Sam said while holding up the folder. “Thanks, buddy,” he added, then shook Sam’s hand.

Sam rushed out of Peter’s office with the folder.

Sam drove down I-4, excited about presenting the news to Becky. But then he saw a billboard along the Interstate for missing children. Sam slowed down and pulled off the side of the road, opened the folder, and looked at the paper and picture again.

“I don’t fucking believe it,” he said, then closed the folder.

Sam opened up his cell phone and made another phone call.

“John Watson,” he answered Sam’s call.

“John, it’s Sam Woods. Listen, I must see you right away. Extremely important,” Sam blurted out, all excited.

“I saw on the news you found Annette’s

killer. Thank you. If that scum bag Allan Stein were still alive, I would snap his neck,” John fumed, then paused for a few seconds. “So, what else can be so important that you need to see me right away?”

“It’ll have to wait until I get to Phoenix. I’m heading straight to the Orlando airport, and I’ll let you know if I can get a flight,” Sam said.

“Okay. I owe you a world of thanks,” John said.

Sam disconnected his call and quickly made another call.

“Hey baby, listen, I have to try and get the next flight out to Phoenix,” he told Cindy, then cringed, knowing she wouldn’t be thrilled.

“What? Phoenix? Why?” she asked and sounded pissed.

“I’ll explain when I return, but it’s not about hunting down a killer this time. It’s really good news, and I hope it turns out how I want it to,” he replied.

“We’re leaving for the Biltmore Estates in a couple of days. You better not forget, or our relationship is over,” she said in a tone that indicated she was serious.

“I’ll be there, I promise,” he replied.

“Have a safe flight,” she said, then disconnected her end of the call.

Sam drove to the airport and was lucky to get on the next flight to Phoenix, which left in five hours. He called John with the information and promised to meet him.

Later that night, Sam sat with John on his sofa in his living room in Phoenix. Sam had the folder in his lap.

“Why couldn’t you tell me at the airport?” John asked.

“I wanted to wait until we were at your home. I think you’re going to be happy with what’s been uncovered. But first, do you have some photos of your baby Rachael?”

“Of course. Why would you ask?” John answered, a little baffled.

“Please let me see some photos of Rachael,” Sam said.

“If you wish,” John said, then got off the sofa and left the living room.

A few minutes later, he returned with a small album in hand.

John entered with a photo album and sat down next to Sam.

“I don’t have many pictures,” he said while opening the album.

Sam saw a picture of Rachael, around one month old, in her crib.

He saw a picture of Rachael, around two months old, in Annette’s arms.

He saw a picture of Rachael, about four months old, in John’s arms while he was in his Marine uniform. Rachael rested her head on John’s shoulder and saw the back of her neck. He saw her stork bite birthmark.

Sam got a huge smile.

“That’s all I have of her,” John said.

“How would you like to accompany me to Florida for a few days?” Sam offered.

“Why do I need to go there?” John replied, a little confused.

Sam handed John the folder.

“Take a look inside.” John opened it up and saw an adoption form from an adoption agency in Curtis, Mississippi. The form was dated January 12, 1967, and was for a young female baby eight months of age. The form indicated the baby had a stork bite birthmark and that the parents were unknown.

The form further stated that the baby was found abandoned in a Piggly Wiggly store in Curtis.

“I don’t understand,” John said, as it didn’t immediately sink in his head. Then it took a few seconds, and it hit him like a ton of bricks.

Sam removed a picture from his shirt pocket. “This was attached to the adoption form. Allan’s book stated he kept a photograph of a baby girl after he killed the fifth girl,” Sam said while he handed the picture to John.

John looked at the picture. His mouth dropped in shock when he saw it was a picture of Rachael. “Annette carried this picture in her purse at all times,” John said, his eyes filled with tears. Then it dawned on him. “Oh, my God! The bastard kidnapped Rachael!” John said, then turned red with anger.

“Serial killers often keep souvenirs from their victims. But I never heard of the victim’s baby,” Sam said.

John’s anger turned to joy when he realized his baby girl was still alive.

“When do we leave for Florida?”

“As soon as we can get you some reservations,” Sam replied.

“I could never repay you for all you’ve done,” John said while holding his hand out to Sam.

“It’s my pleasure,” Sam replied while he shook John’s hand.

Sam gleamed that he made John so happy.

Sam and John could get on a flight out of Phoenix early in the morning. John insisted Sam spend the night at his house.

Meanwhile, in Kissimmee, Marty was busy shredding all pictures that included Allan. After that, he burned all the videotapes that included Allan.

Becky was still sickened about her father being a killer. She never wanted to see his face again, so she had Marty perform this task.

Marty took the laptop that Becky bought Allan. He took the laptop and went inside his garage.

He used a hammer, smashed the laptop, and dumped it in the trash.

The next morning, Sam and John were at the airport for their 8:05 flight to Orlando.

Sam called Cindy and told her that he had to make one more pit stop at Becky’s house. At first, she was upset, but after Sam told her the story about finding John’s kidnapped baby, she changed her tune. She was so proud of her man.

Later that day, Sam pulled his car into Becky’s driveway. He and John got out of the car and walked to the front door.

Sam had the folder in hand, and John had his photo album.

It was a nervous walk for John while they headed to the front door.

Sam rang the doorbell.

The door opened, and Becky appeared.

John was speechless when he saw his daughter.

Becky looked nervous. “Don’t tell me; Uncle Creepy is out of jail.”

“No. This is John Watson. His wife was the last one murdered by Allan,” Sam told her.

Becky looked upset. “Why would you bring him here? I can’t be blamed for what Dad did so long ago,” Becky said while her eyes started to well up.

“No, no. It’s not that. Can we come inside? I have some news. News that should make you very happy.”

Becky got curious, moved aside, and let them inside her home.

After they sat down on the sofa, Sam handed her the folder.

She opened up the folder.

She saw the adoption form from an adoption agency in Curtis, Mississippi.

It was an adoption form with Allan and Beverly as the parents.

“Oh, my God! I’ve always had a feeling I was adopted! But why wouldn’t they tell me?” Becky asked while she read the form over again. “And why are you here, Mister Watson?” she asked while she looked at him.

John handed her his photo album and opened up the pictures. Becky saw the birthmark on the baby pictures.

“After my wife was murdered, our baby girl, Rachael, was kidnapped. I never found her,” John said while his eyes welled up and his lips trembled.

Then it dawned on Becky. “A serial killer kidnapped me?” Becky got the dry heaves. She covered her mouth in case she vomited.

Sam and John watched while she got up and ran out of the room.

They heard her vomit in the toilet from down the hall.

“She does this occasionally,” Sam told John.

John could care less. He would rather hear his daughter vomit than never hear from her.

A few minutes later, she brushed her teeth and garbled with mouthwash, and Becky returned to the livening room.

“I’m so sorry for running out like that,” she said.

John stood up. “That’s okay. When you were a baby, you vomited once or twice on my shoulder.”

Becky looked at John and had this overwhelming feeling he was family. “Dad?” she said while her eyes welled up.

“My baby,” he replied and rushed over to her.

They hugged.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my son Jason and daughter Suzie,” John told her.

Becky’s eyes widened with joy. “I have a step-brother and sister?” she asked him.

John nodded in agreement.

Sam’s eyes welled up while they hugged each other tightly.