Sunday morning we were back at it. We crammed in five sessions with three positive achievements, a new record. A Colorado farm boy was found cowering from his father's wrath in the loft of a barn while a retarded Illinois ten year old was lured to the house of a local registered sex offender after being told his parents had sold him to the man. The case was only hours old when Betsy spotted it giving us hope for the boy's recovery and the perpetrator's arrest.
Number three was a father taking a son from the boy's mother who held custody rights. The boy was jubilant to be with a dad he loved and away from an overly strict mom. While we were sympathetic to dad, we decided after heated discussion simply tip what we learned. We had no right to play god any more than we were already doing.
Before Betsy and I left for the airport, we received incredible news! A network television station announced the arrest of Byron John Jacobson for the murder of Elsie Otis whose nude body was found in rural Kentucky! He was also listed as a person of interest in the deaths of at least six young women in the Missouri-Kentucky area. We were thrilled beyond words, a monumental success.
We trudged through the next few weeks marginally well though the schedule was exhausting to all and, in spite of our efforts, our other lives were suffering. While we refrained from tracking our results, when we learned through public media of a success, we celebrated. There were many.
Disappointments abounded as well. Betsy spotted an item announcing the discovery on a Maryland beach of the body of the Delaware abductee Marcia Stonehurst. Howie had watched her abduction after several attempts, but failed to capture the license plate number. Details of her sufferings were only hinted. The news was devastating to all of us.
Obtaining accurate and timely information continued to be our Achilles heel. It frustrated to Betsy who spent hours on the Internet seeking the most effective uses of Howie's talent. Martha too was exasperated as she sought the most responsive tip line. The number of choices available added to the confusion. Our self-imposed prohibition against pursuing our tips once given limited our learning which sources produced the best results.
A situation arose that ultimately remedied both problems. Martha called after a Wednesday session. It was after ten.
"I don't know if I more angry or frustrated," she said. "It's the O'Brien matter."
I recognized the case. Betsy had referred it as an afterthought, suspecting the young girl was a runaway. We didn't even remain on the phone so sure we were that it wouldn't prove to be a crime.