Читать книгу Dead And Buried: A True Story Of Serial Rape And Murder - Corey Mitchell - Страница 15

SEVEN

March 11, 1999

Branch Street, San Luis Obispo, California

2:00 A.M.

Aundria Lynn Crawford was ready to call it a night. The twenty-year-old Cuesta College student had made it through another hectic day of school and she was pooped. She had worked hard ever since she moved to San Luis Obispo to attendthe respected junior college. Aundria had been an excellent student and ballerina, until she turned sixteen. That year she discovered that she walked on her feet incorrectly and would have to rework her bones to correct the problem. The pain on her point toe, the one she tiptoed on, was unbearable. It forced her to quit her first true passion. As a result Aundria missed the one thing that helped her stay focused and disciplined.Subsequently, with her diminished enthusiasm came diminished grades. Her senior year at Clovis High School proved to be a killer. Academically she performed poorly. Her lack of a solid grade report prevented her from attending her dream college—Cal Polytechnic Institute. Therefore, she settledinto the next best thing—she enrolled in junior college.

Aundria spent her first year of college at Fresno City College,where she drastically improved her grades. She then transferred in her sophomore year to Cuesta College, another junior college, in San Luis Obispo. She intended to do everythingin her power to transfer to Cal Poly. Cuesta College had one of the highest transfer rates in the state, so she knew if she stayed focused, her chances were excellent.

This evening, however, she was worn out and ready for bed. She kissed her cat, Riley, good night and stripped out of her clothes. She usually slept in her panties and a well-worn T-shirt, in her cozy upstairs loft bedroom. The brown duplex reminded her of a ski lodge in Colorado. Aundria retired to her bedroom and read a little before turning off the lamp on her nightstand.

She was not aware of the man standing outside.

Or that he wore something over his face.

The man had pulled a pair of panty hose over his mug and crept toward Aundria’s duplex. It was the fourth time he had been there, spying on the lithe, dirty-blond-haired college student.The half a fifth of Jack Daniel’s that he had drunk earlier in the evening seemed to release his inhibitions. Before when he had spied on her, he did not have the courage to approach her.

Aundria had turned out the lights in her bedroom. It was time to go to sleep.

Now was his chance.

The man strode directly toward the front door of the duplex.It was locked. He went around back. He checked the large windows, but they were locked. He went back to the front. He looked around, wondering what to do, when he spottedher bathroom window. It was a tiny window, but he was determined to get inside. Much to his surprise and glee, it was unlocked. He quietly removed the screen and began to crawl through the window. It was an amazingly tiny window. Too tiny for his hefty frame, but he was determined. There was a reason he wanted inside so badly and he was going to get in, no matter what happened to him. He continued to squeeze through the window; however, he hurt himself in the process. Despite the pain he successfully made his way into Aundria Crawford’s duplex.

“Meeeoooo www ww!”

The loud screeching noise that emanated from the bathroomtemporarily paralyzed the man. He had no idea what caused the shrill sound.

It was Riley.

Aundria awoke from her slumber. She decided to go check on her cat. Riley had felt sick, due to a recent surgery.

The intruder stood quietly, but anxious, in her bathroom. The encounter with the damned cat had increased his heart rate substantially, and he seriously contemplated getting the hell out of there. Just as he was ready to turn around and sneak back out, the bathroom door opened.

A sleepy-eyed Aundria Crawford looked at the man standing in her bathroom. They both froze in their tracks for a split secondand then the intruder reared his arm back and punched her solidly in the mouth, splitting her lip and slamming her up against the bathroom wall. He then advanced on her and continuedthe forceful melee. He punched her, at least three or four more times in the face, until he knocked her unconscious.

The man stopped for a moment and looked down at the attractivegirl lying at his feet in the cramped bathroom. He then pulled out a rope from his back pocket, which he purposefullybrought just for this occasion, and knelt down on the floor and grabbed Aundria’s limp body. Immediately he wrapped the rope around her wrists and secured them behind her back. He also tied her feet together and wrenched them up her backside until they reached her bound wrists. He then looped the rope around her feet and her wrists so she was in a hog-tied position. He then looped the rope around her neck. He checked the rope to make sure it was secure. She was not going anywhere.

He also made sure she could not make a noise, so he grabbed a roll of silver duct tape, which he also brought for the occasion, and unfurled it across her mouth.

Still not feeling entirely confident, he bolted up Aundria’s staircase and into her bedroom. While there, he grabbed one of her pillowcases and quickly returned to the bathroom. He grabbed Aundria’s still-unconscious body and draped the pillowcaseover her head. He did not want her to see him in case she woke up.

Aundria was unconscious, hog-tied, gagged, and blindfolded.But she was still alive.

The intruder returned to her bedroom and grabbed another pillowcase. He began to survey the room and realized that he wanted to take some of this girl’s items with him. Using the pillowcase as a carrying bag, he stuffed random items inside. He took some of Aundria’s country and classic rock CDs, videotapes, and even a VCR. He also grabbed some of her clothes.

The intruder rushed outside to Branch Street and located his blue Ford Ranger pickup in front of her house. It was nestledunder several large oak trees, which served as a natural canopy over the quiet neighborhood street. The darkness createdby the trees provided a cover, so no one would see him. He tossed the pillowcase full of stolen items into the car and returned to Aundria’s brown duplex.

When he returned, he panicked.

She was conscious!

She was valiantly struggling against her numerous restraints,but the exertion only frightened her more and slowed her down. The man did not punch her again. Instead, he grabbed her in a bundle, tossed the 5’6”, 120-pound girl over his shoulder, and headed out onto Branch Street. He placed her in the back of the truck cab behind the seats and quietly shut the passenger door. Instead of getting into the truck and driving off, the man returned to the duplex.

He scurried to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. He used it to wipe off Aundria’s blood from the floor. There were only small spots, but several dispersed throughout the house. When he finished, he turned off the lights and headed out. As he was about to exit the back door, something shiny caught his eye.

Aundria’s keys.

He raced over to the dining-room table, where they lay. He grasped them in his large hand. There was something unusual attached to the keys.

A tiny black eight ball key chain. He looked at the key chain with a certain sense of bemusement.

It brought back memories. Just as quickly, he was gone.