Bobbie's mother walked over to me with a determinedly serious look and quietly asked "What in Hell is going on here?" I introduced myself and asked if we might go up on their porch and talk.
She indicated that we sit and asked, once again, "What in Hell is going on here? Please answer me. Why is Bobbie wearing an oversize tee shirt and standing outside? Why are you here?"
I looked her straight in the eyes and told her that; first, Bobbie was not hurt and was probably lucky to be there at all. I told her what had happened, right up to the present. Bobbie came over to me and put her hands up to my face and kissed me on the lips, not a sexual kiss, but, indeed a very loving kiss.
Her mother got up and came over to us and put her arms around both of us and kissed our cheeks. I smiled and noticed that tears were coming down her face. I hugged her and told her that she only needed to be happy that much worse things did not happen and that Bobbie was home and safe.
She asked me to please come inside and asked if I wanted coffee. I accepted and sat down at the kitchen table, with Bobbie sitting next to me, with her legs and body pressed up close.
Bobbie told her mother that she wished that I was her dad and her mother jumped and immediately blushed to beet red, but said nothing.
"Mom, he KNOWS that I am a girl and he's OK with it! Can you believe that?"
"Bobbie, let's not talk about that right now, Bobby and I need to have some serious conversation about what happened to you. If it makes you feel any better, yes I expect that he would make an excellent father, but we need to talk right now."
She brought a pot of very nice coffee to the table and asked Bobbie to get cups, saucers, spoons, milk, sugar and some coffee cake from the fridge. She sat down across from me and, first, thanked me profusely for taking care of Bobbie. Then she asked if I had reported it to the police. I told her that I had not, explaining that Bobbie was so devastated and emotional when I found her that I thought it best to at least wait and that it might be best to not report it all, since she had no real evidence to justify arresting anyone in the first place. I told her that I was going to go to the scene and look around and to also be looking for the low-life that had raped Bobbie.
She agreed that it would serve no useful purpose to make the report, especially in light of the fact that all crimes are reported by the local newspaper from the records at the police department.
I added that I intended to look for the man and his car and If I could catch him doing it to another girl then call for assistance and, hopefully, rid the town of its menace. (I did not mention that he might not survive to be arrested should I catch him.)
Bobbie's mother looked at me intently and said that she couldn't believe that I would spend time looking for him. I told her that I needed something to do to break the boredom of my life.
She asked why my life was boring and I told her that I had decided to retire from my occupation as an electronics engineer and try to conjure up another idea that I could patent and sell for a small fortune like I had done the year before. I told her that I spent my time looking for possibilities but that it seemed to be going nowhere.
She asked what I had patented and I described the automated assembly line controller that had occurred to me when I was interviewing for a job. I told her that I had plenty of time to devote to trying to catch the man who rapes little girls because that infuriates me.
Bobbie leaned over and put her arm around mine and told her mother that she knew that I would find him and stop him from doing it.
I asked her mother if I might take the two of them out for a movie and dinner soon. She told me that that would be really nice. I asked for her phone number and she got one of her cards from her purse and gave it to me. "Janet," I said, "that's a nice name!"
"Oh, I never introduced myself to you. How embarrassing is that?" she said, going beet red again.
"Please don't worry, Janet. You had a rather shocking experience to contend with. I am glad that you are the sensible woman that you are and didn't lose it over the incident."
"Mom, now don't you think he would be a good daddy for me?"
Janet went into a deeper red at that and looked down, saying nothing, but smiling a big smile.
As I drove away from their house, I began to plan how I was going to resolve the problem of this scumbag raper of little girls. The pictures in my mind of him making her suck him off reminded me of some military methods of handling those who do such unspeakable things to others.
I am not a violent man. I was taught to defend myself, but never had to utilize those skills. I do not relish the idea of killing anyone, but I also don’t want menaces like this one loose and hunting. I had fleeting thoughts of encountering him, being threatened by him and removing the threat......Permanently.
I first drove to where he had pushed her out of his car a couple of doors from my house and began scanning for evidence possibly left by him. I found nothing there so began retracing his route back to the abandoned building where she had been taken. About three blocks from the building, I saw clothing in the gutter, stopped and picked up Bobbie’s clothing. A little bit further I found her shoes. I found her money, house key and a few other kid things in the pockets of her shorts. She had been wearing leather shoes and I hoped to find fingerprints to use in identifying that piece of shit.
I drove to the abandoned building that Bobbie had showed me as I took her home, parked in front and made my way to the back, flashlight in hand, Glock on my side. I found tire tracks and followed them under a shed roof. Looking around, I found nothing in the form of evidence except some perfectly clear single tire tracks where the vehicle had made a tight turn in leaving. I took my time and got several greatly detailed pictures of the tracks of all four tires with my phone. I left the building and went home.
A guy I was in the Army with is now a senior FBI agent. We were close friends then and still are. If I asked him to run the prints, I was sure that he would and not press me for details. We had done some personnel “cleaning” a few times and had always been satisfied with our results. He was an investigator and I was an electronics specialist. We worked quite well together and sometimes “forgot” to include some minor details in a few of the nastier cases we worked.
Our methods and practices were "what was needed at a particular time in order to clear unusual problems".
( Equalization is so satisfying to the soul ! )
I carefully inspected Bobbie’s shoes and did, indeed, find some rather clear fingerprints. I packaged up the shoes so as not to disturb the prints. I printed the tire track pictures on my hi-rez printer and called Tom, my FBI friend. I was prepared to leave him a voice mail but he answered on the second ring. I apologized for the lateness of the call and he told me that he was in his office and had been finalizing some paperwork on a case they had just completed. I told him that I would like to see him asap and he offered to meet me at an all-night diner. We met 15 minutes later.
I told him the story and what I wanted to do and he pledged his support and assistance immediately. When we left, I gave him the shoes and pictures. He agreed to contact me as soon as he had evaluated the evidence.
I got a call from him around 11AM and he invited me to have lunch with him and talk about our army days. I instantly knew that he had good news. We met and sat at a table in a corner of the restaurant so we could have some privacy.
The first news was that the fingerprints were quickly matched to a man who had two convictions for sex crimes, the first one for sexual assault and raping his own 14 year old daughter for which he had spent 20 years in the penitentiary.
Then, after his release from prison, he had gotten a life sentence for the kidnap and rape of another girl that he had kidnapped on a school ground.
His life sentence was overturned due to technicalities and he was never re-tried. His last known address was in a town 10 miles from where we were. Tom said that the local police departments were on the watch for any of his activities.
I also learned that there were no automobiles owned or licensed to him and that the tires matched factory tires on a late model and make car. Bobbie had told me that his car was silver.
I felt well prepared to embark upon the hunt for and end of his despicable career.
Tom wished me good luck and offered several legal points to keep aware of in order not to ruin my success. I thanked him and he said that he was glad to be of assistance and to keep him informed in a third party manner of “What-ifs”, “What-does-it-mean-when” only and to give him no direct information or reports so that he could stay completely neutral and disassociated from my activities. I agreed and thanked him again.
I drove out to the last known address of the child raper and did not see either him or the car. On a whim, I drove over to the local middle school and promptly located a car matching the description of the one of interest. I parked across the street and two car lengths behind it. There appeared to be no one inside. I tried to give the impression that I was waiting to pick up a child after school, and began to read a newspaper, with my phone camera in my lap.
When the bell sounded the end of the school day, children began leaving and I soon noticed a middle aged man walking about and closely observing them. A police car drove by and he began looking at the school’s door as if waiting for his child. When the police car turned the corner, he immediately walked to the car that I was watching. I got several nice pictures of him and of him getting in the car. Then I took a shot of the rear of the car, showing the license plate. I followed him from a block back as he drove home to the address listed to the convicted child rapist.
I did not expect him to attempt anything in this town on account of his being known by the police there. I concluded that he had just been “window shopping” at the school and, that having been unsuccessful the night before, he might just be on the prowl again that tonight. I determined to be like his shadow for the time being. As soon as it was dark, I parked directly across the street from his car, got out and quickly attached a GPS unit with a radio transmitter to his car and went back to my car and drove off.
I parked in a Wall-Mart parking lot and fired up my laptop which was connected to a receiver tuned to the transmitter on his car. It showed that the car was still parked at his house. 30 minutes or so later, I saw that it was moving and traveling toward the Interstate highway. I started up and headed in that direction, noting that he was going away from my city
I followed him to a city an hour South, and watched my screen as he drove slowly, patrolling the streets, looking for his next prey. He stopped for a couple of minutes, and then drove away faster, making a few turns and stopping again. I approached his location, got out and walked around looking for the car. I finally located it behind a building that had a “For Sale” sign.
I could see movement inside the car and then a girl’s voice begging “No, please don’t. I don’t want to get pregnant. Please don’t , EEEEEeeeee! NO, STOP, THAT HURTS….AAAAHHHHhhhh”. I got up to the car just as he was beginning to thrust deeply into the girl. I was too late to save her virginity, but had plenty of time to open the rear door and put the snout of my Glock to his right temple. I told him that if he moved I was going to gut-shoot him and that he would die an extremely painful death. He froze, and before he could respond, I took pictures of him with his dick inside the little girl’s bleeding pussy. I then told him to pull out of her and back out of the car.
I called 911 and got the police en route. I made him lie, face down, on the ground and told him that I hoped that he would move, but that if he did I was going to shoot him as previously described. He blubbered and cried that he couldn’t help himself, wanhh, wanhh, wanhh.
I told the girl to stay put until the approaching police cars and ambulance arrived.
The beat cops took information and details and while they were busy, I asked to be excused to go pee before I contaminated their crime scene. They laughingly said yes and I went off into the shadows, pausing momentarily to remove the GPS / transmitter from his car and plant it behind the bush that I watered. Upon my return, I was informed that I had caught a known and convicted child molester and rapist with incriminating pictures to boot. I was told to follow them to their headquarters for further statements, etc.
My story was (and perfectly true) that I was walking down the street and heard the pleas of the girl and hastened to assist her. I forgot to mention certain other aspects of the story, in the excitement of the moment. No one asked why I was walking down the street or what I was doing in their town because I had violated no law and it was no one’s business.
When I told them of my investigatory history with Army Intelligence and mentioned my superior’s name, everyone in the office recognized him.
The girl that he raped was 16 and her father and mother were local lawyers.
The rapist attempted escape and was shot, instantly.
As he lay dying, I whispered into his ear exactly why I happened to be there and that I was glad he tried to escape because I had decided that if he ever was loose on the streets again, I would probably kill him and I didn’t want that burden.
A short while later, Tom called and asked to speak to me. One of the detectives had called his office to get verification of my statements. Tom said that I should consider going back into the Investigations occupation. I told him that my hitch in the army had been enough for me, too many bad dreams, too much distress and death. He understood.
The next morning’s newspaper ran the whole sordid story with statements from the two lawyer parents of the rape victim describing me as a hero.
I felt like no hero because I was too late to save their daughter’s virginity.
About noon, Janet, Bobbie’s mother, called and was hardly able to speak from crying so pitifully in reaction to the news article. She pleaded with me to come to their house as soon as I was able, and that she wanted to thank me in person. I told her that I would come as soon as I got up, cleaned up and had breakfast. She said to get up and clean up and that she would make me the most abundantly delicious breakfast that I could imagine.
I could not refuse THAT offer!
* TO BE CONTINUED *
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