The Bundy Murders: A Comprehensive History Read Online Free PDF

insisted, she would have gone to work. Karen shrugged and told the caller Lynda was not home. Her employers' concern now heightened, they made a second call several minutes later asking if her bike was gone too. A quick check revealed it to be in the same place as when Karen went to bed, and she noticed the door leading to the outside was unlocked.

    No one had any idea where Lynda had gone. It was uncharacteristic for her simply to leave and not tell anyone where she was going, but she was in fact no longer there, and while everybody had an opinion about what she might have done or where she might have gone, it was pure speculation and everyone knew it. Naturally, this gave birth to an unsettled and, for the most part, unspoken apprehension among them, but the transition from worry to outright fear would come later, as each began arriving home later that afternoon and there was still no sign of Lynda.
    Just after 4:00 P.M., Joanne began making calls to those who should have had contact with their missing housemate, but no one had seen her all day. She didn't show up for work, nor was she seen at school. In the midst of this, Lynda's mother called and Joanne had to tell her that her daughter hadn't come home yet. Apparently, this was not the first attempt Mrs. Healy made to reach Lynda that afternoon of February 1.
    At about 6:00 P.M., Lynda's father James and brother Robert arrived at the house and were told by her clearly fearful housemates that Lynda had been missing since early that morning, and how they were trying to call anyone who might have seen her or who might know her whereabouts. To be confronted with such a thing must be horrible beyond description. There is no preparation for it; no manual that explains how to cope. People may enter a state of surreal automation, with almost mechanical responses, and in so doing, they are able to handle the nightmare without imploding mentally. In any event, James Healy called his wife and told her not to come over. After listening to her husband, Mrs. Healy said he should call the authorities. According to one of the residents, he thought they should wait awhile. But Joyce Healy would not wait. After saying goodbye she immediately phoned the police.
    When the first officers rolled up to 5517 12th Street N.E., they couldn't have known the gravity of the situation. All of that would come later. The department had been on runs like this before. This was, after all, a college community where students, for whatever reason, were prone to spontaneous changes in routines. Because of this, it wasn't at all uncommon for kids sometimes to skip classes, leave the city, or merely hang out at somebody else's pad for a time, especially if there was a new love-interest involved. College kids could be quite unpredictable. That being said, it is of the utmost importance in any missing person investigation to assume, unless evidence indicates otherwise, that foul play may be involved in the disappearance and proceed from there. Yet sometimes, even when the evidence is dear, the situation can be misinterpreted.

    As the officers entered the house they were greeted by the somber faces of the residents and Lynda's family, who nervously began recounting the events of the previous night and their efforts to locate her. If fear and worry could have been measured as one would measure an electrical current, the charge coursing through that house would have been astounding, for the realization that something dreadful had happened to Lynda was beginning to descend upon them all. All, that is, except for the two patrolmen, who listened patiently but believed this was a replay of other runs they'd made before. Their initial report contained mostly routine information: name of the missing person, race, sex, height, parents' names and addresses, and a brief description of what they'd been told about their subject. It was also noted that some of her clothes were missing, along with a pair of boots, and a red