Each of us was relieving our daily pressure with other interests. Spring's arrival suggested a garden and Betsy embraced the idea whole heartedly. We shopped for our first car together. I eyed a sporty little number but Betsy, with a family in her radar, opted for a mid-sized compact. Together we let a dog choos us at the local humane society.

The new canine member of our family was a happy little feller with a fair dose of Cocker Spaniel in his genealogy. Betsy named him Bumpus after his tendency to crash into immovable objects as he dashed around our house and yard.

Our work schedule encompassed five intense days, Monday through Friday. We usually attempted four cases a day and with more accurate data, our success percentage improved. Tips were conveyed to a dedicated site on guaranteed secure lines. When we called in a tip, the recipient of our offering was located in a secure government-run facility in Omaha that promised total anonymity. I learned to recognize the same voice answering the line most of the time, though my voice was scrambled to her ears. It was early May when we fingered another serial killer from Daniel Brennan's hot list. We were ecstatic, but increasingly nervous.

Frankie Lloyd Cummings was a fifty year old drifter who killed teenage runaways. We almost passed up the case, thinking it was yet another teenager leaving home on her own. Fortunately the day presented little of our precise criteria. We knew the young girl was in trouble shortly after she left her house, with Howie following closely behind her.

Howie spotted Cummings picking up Jennie Lohr as she hitchhiked to town from her rural Kansas farm. He stayed with them and was shocked when the car left the road, bumping into a secluded copse, frightening the girl. The driver struck his passenger repeatedly on the side of her head with his free hand as he drove deeper into the wood. Howie immediately awoke; not wishing to witness what he knew would follow. We frantically conveyed his information. The details were sufficient to locate Cummings but not timely enough to save Jennie. Her killer was pulled over the next day by an observant trooper shortly after dumping the young girl's body.

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"He confessed," Brennan told us later. "He claimed he deserved to be caught for being stupid. Previously, he'd carefully planned his abductions and never came close to getting caught. When he saw pretty Jennie Lohr on the road, he couldn't resist. He admitted to fifteen or sixteen abductions . . . he couldn't remember which. They covered a period of twenty years."

Brennan reported back on Willard Humphries, Annie's alleged abductor. "He served about a dozen years for rape in California and dropped out of sight after he was released." Brennan thanked us for the name and said he'd try to run down his whereabouts.




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