Guest Writer-Michelle Writes of Strange Waters in the Night; A Great Ann Rule Book Review

Guest Writer Michelle revisits her water poltergeist with a tale of mystery waters in dead of night.

Plus a book review-"Kiss Me, Kill Me" by Ann Rule.

This book is a fascinating review of formerly unsolved crimes now finding justice via modern DNA and investigative techniques.

Plus a correction sent in by a reader on my original review, all noted appropriately below.

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Ann Rule’s “Kiss Me, Kill Me”

cover of Rule's

This book is one of Ann’s famous true crime “compilations” in that there are several stories compiled into one novel.

The book begins with the story of Sandy Bowman, murdered over 35 years prior to the book’s writing. Many of the stories in this book involve crimes that went unsolved for many years to be eventually solved in this era of more modern DNA techniques.

In fact this is one of the more fascinating things about this book, the unfolding tale of investigators trying to solve a crime without all the modern technology available to crime investigators today.

There are some intriguing crimes covered in this book. The books ends with a crime still not solved, a young married woman, Julie Weflin, who disappeared from her job 17 years ago and she still has not been found.

Harvey Glatman was a demented photographer who had a weird penchant for photographing his eventual victims before their murder.

***Blogger note-a reader emailed me a correction to this story in Rule's book reviewed in this post. I erroneous state that Fran Steffen managed to escape her stabber while running away holding her intestines in her hand.

In fact, Fran Steffen was stabbed to death by her killer and it was Fran's friend who escaped the same man who killed Fran just moments earlier, this while holding her intestines in her hand.

Below the quote by the reader....thanks for the correction.
I just finished reading "Kiss Me, Kill Me," and then I stumbled across your blog.

I thought I'd just let you know that in your review, the section about Fran Steffen ("You Kill Me--Or I'll Kill You") is incorrect. Fran was attacked while she was awake (she yelled "Oh God," or something like that), and she died in the apartment -- she never left the apartment after she was attacked.

Her friend, Lee Connors, is the one who was eviscerated in her sleep -- and she is also the one who ran to a friend's house holding her intestines in her arms.

Just thought I'd let you know…

Fran Steffen was literally eviscerated while she slept. Her killer was a fellow who really wanted Fran to STAB him for his sexual gratification. Fran survived the horrible attack by running away from her attacker and getting to safety, all the while holding her intestines with her arms.

Other stories include a gullible man killed by a couple and an obsessed husband who kills his wife.

After the detail in these crimes as only Ann Rule can write, many of these crimes by men who so “loved” the women they murdered, Ann provided these rules for young women today. It’s a list of actions/behavior/words that most definitely are NOT love:

-he tells you don't need anyone else but him
-he doesn't want you to wear makeup, fix up
-cuts you off from friends and family
-calls constantly to check up on you
-does not want you to get more education
-says he cant live without you, even threatens suicide
-chips away at your self-confidence
-strikes you, EVER

Review Ann Rule's "Every Breath You Take"

Shiela Bellush had quadruplets and, unfortunately, two daughters with Allen Blackthorne.

Blackthorne had everything a man could want. But he didn't have Shiela.

So he murdered her and left her babies toddling all about their mother's body.
Review Ann Rule's "Every Breath You Take"
Ann Rule's "Heart Full of Lies" and "Bitter Harvest"

Liysa Northon was featured in Rule's "Heart Full of Lies". Liysa was pretty, intelligent and fortunate enough to live in two homes, one in Hawaii and one in Bend, Oregon. She was married to a Hawaiian Airlines pilot, Chris Northon, and was a talented photographer and writer in her own right.

Dr. Debora Green was a physician married to another physician, a Cardiologist, Dr. Mike Farrar. The couple owned a luxury home in Prairie Village, Kansas.

Both women had beautiful children; Liysa had two precocious boys while Debora had a son and two daughters. Both women wanted their husbands dead. One succeeded, the other gave it a try. Debora Green's house burned down and two of her precious children perished in the flames.

Both of these women are crazy as loons.

Ann Rule's "Heart Full of Lies" and "Bitter Harvest"
Ann Rule's "No Regrets"

A book review as Ann Rule does it again with "No, Regrets".
He piloted mighty boats and lived past 80 years but his own wife ended it all for him.

Ann Rule's "No Regrets"
Ann Rule-"And Never Let Her Go"

And Never Let Her Go" is the true crime story of Thomas Capano, scion of a wealthy Delaware family, lawyer and political insider. It wasn't that long ago that this case was splashed in all the newspapers in this area and I vowed that when someone wrote the book I would look into it immediately. I was delighted that Ann Rule wrote the book.

Ann Rule-"And Never Let Her Go"

Ann Rule "Last Dance, Last Chance"

This book by Ann Rule is unique out of all her novels in that Rule actually got to interview the victim who almost died at the hands of the idiot around who the story is based.

Ann Rule-"Last Dance, Last Chance"

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Midnight In the Bahamas

ED NOTE: Michelle wrote a prior Blog post about her water demons, LINK HERE

Part I:

2/13/08 1:10am Wednesday

I was sleeping so beautifully.

It'd been a nice evening. One of my friends came over, bringing dinner for us from Boston Market, and then we watched a movie. After she left, I did my evening tasks and went to bed. And I was dreaming of the Bahamas, sultry air and chilled drinks and the waves lapping on the shore...

Wait. Those waves are here.

I awoke with a start to the soft, intermittent sound of water. Tink. Trrtlrrr. Tink.

I stretched and got up, looking at the clock to see that it was 12:24 in the morning. Expecting to find the dog into something wet, or that the cat had managed to turn on a faucet, I followed the sounds into the master bath.

And stepped into a lake.

The master bath floor was awash; the water sounds emanated from the lip of the floor vent in the master bedroom, just outside the bathroom door, and the shower had a merry mostly-silent waterfall cascading into Lake Master Bath. As I stood there, in shocking wet feet, I realized the water level was rising.

Aaaah! The water poltergeist was at it again! I cursed H-2-Uh-Oh and got a bucket and a beach towel. That didn't soak up everything on the floor (but it did stop the water from getting into the bedroom) and Iquickly found I hadn't the strength to wring it out, either. So I got another, smaller towel.

That one, too, was unwieldy wet, so I went looking for a hand towel. And as I searched for one, I thought about physics. A stable body of water cannot overflow unless it has more water coming in. The river doesn't flood unless there's a nasty local storm, or too much runoff from upstream.

Our septic tank has been in trouble since Christmas, when we discovered one of the covers had fallen in. The tank is apparently the original one that came with the house and is made of wood. It's beginning to crumble. We had a septic place out and they will replace it - when the ground dries out enough to support one of their trucks. Since we've had so much rain since Christmas, there's been no chance to do that. Today (er, yesterday) was the third sunny day in a row and that's been a long stretch compared to what we've had. The ground is still not dry enough.

But even so, unless more water was coming in, the tank shouldn't be backing up. And the water in the master bath didn't smell bad, either.

I looked outside. No, it wasn't raining.

I followed the hidden-underground pipe trail. The bathtub in the hall bath had standing water in it, about six inches deep. I set the stopper to closed. The sink was fine. The kitchen sink was fine, too.

Aha! The garage sink was about half full. This one holds a *lot* of water. The water softener must have cycled, sending its weekly overflow into that garage sink. (I certainly wasn't doing laundry or anything in my sleep! Who does laundry while they're in the Bahamas?)

If I didn't empty the garage sink, the water would simply find its way out onto the bathroom floor. I got my bucket and a coffee can and started bailing. One full bucket, and I paused. Today (er, yesterday) I'd received what I think is a junk email saying someone close to me has taken out a contract for my death (one of you, perhaps?). It was to my email address, but didn't have my name, just "What Ever You Call YourSelf" so I think it's junk. Maybe. Sort of. But I kept it in case I should suddenly die and the Feds need a clue. The note said not to
come outside after 7pm.

And here I was, way after 7pm, standing in my robe and bare feet in the garage with a full bucket of water and nowhere to dump it except outside. A death threat, and a flooded bathroom. Coincidence?

I stood there a moment, weighing options (not many) and beliefs (was it junk?) and decided to do what I must.

Hex House

I opened the door and invited the dog to step outside.

He refused to go.

I pushed the dog outside.

Nothing happened to Bounty, so I stuck my head out and peeked around. No black-clad assassins waited for me. So I gathered my courage and stepped out, then dumped the bucket and went back for another.

Two full buckets. Then three, and a fourth. The water in the garage sink went down, and down and down. Finally I was getting only half a coffee can per dip and I expected to start scraping the bottom of the sink soon.

But it didn't happen.

One half coffee can full at a time, I filled the bucket a fifth time. And then a sixth. I began to wonder if I was in a bad horror movie, or a Candid Camera episode. A seventh bucket. The water level in the garage sink was NOT going down.

I took the seventh bucket full outside and dumped it. Then I studied the garage sink. The water was bubbling back in so fast I could *see* the current at the drain!

So I came in to check the house. The bathtub looked unchanged, which was good because I'd stopped it. But the shower! The shower level had dropped about two inches and was no longer coming over the edge. Apparently I had stabilized the water level, and our house isn't as sloped as I'd thought.

I figured I'd finish the task in the morning, then after the sun was up I'd investigate whether my septic is finally full (after that partial dirt/wood collapse in December) or if the pipe is clogged. I got a glass of water (why not?) and I went back to bed to try to return to the Bahamas. But I couldn't sleep; this Drivel was running around in my head. So here I am, writing to you what happened. Now I'm off to bed once more and I'll finish my tale for you tomorrow (er, today).

Part II:

2/13/08 12:50pm Wednesday

It's been over twelve hours since I stumbled out of the Bahamas and into Lake Master Bath. The septic tank is not full, but a lot of muddy muck is visible, so I think the entry to it is plugged. I've called the septic company and they'll be out to look at it (and probably snake it clear for now, since they still can't get a truck in to replace the tank) sometime today. I've got a call in to our water softener folk, too, so they can tell me how to turn off the cycling in
case it's a nightly thing (that would be bad).

So for now, it's handled. And this Drivel wouldn't leave me alone until I finished it, so now it's done and I can go back to my business PC and get some work done.

Anybody want a poltergeist?

Part III:

2/15/08 5:21pm Friday

The septic people cleaned out my greywater pipe and everything's running fine again (and I'm still alive). At least, until the next time H-2-Uh-Oh rears his ugly head.


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