Mattingly Stacy - Unlikely angel: the untold story of the atlanta hostage hero

Friday March 11 2005

At 9:45 p.m. my cell phone rang. I looked down at my caller IDit was my step dad calling from Augusta again. What could he want this time?

What are you doing? he asked.

I was exhausted, almost too tired to answer. I held the phone against my ear with my shoulder so I could carry a load of trash out of my second floor apartment down to my car. I had been moving for two days. My new place was a smaller, bottom-level apartment on the other side of the complex. I didnt have much left to do herejust some vacuuming and painting to return the place to its original condition. But I wasnt doing any of that tonight. I needed sleep. I was driving to Dacula in the morning to see Paige.

Im moving the rest of my stuff, I said, trying to get down the stairs. Just please let me get off this phone .

Youre out? Theres a man on the loose and youre out? Havent you been watching the news like I told you?

This was the second time my stepdad had called me about the guy on the news. The first time was late this morning when he woke me up calling. He kept talking about a man and shootings at the courthouse, and he told me to stay inside. Id been up all night unpacking boxes, and I just didnt understand his concern. I mean, I lived in Duluth, maybe half an hour northeast of downtown Atlanta. Thanks, but Im not too worried about it, I had told him.

I learned a little more about the story when I went to work later in the day. Id just started a second job at Barnacles, a restaurant maybe five minutes from my apartment complex. The news was playing on the TV screens when I got there, and I caught the basics: A man had killed some people at the Fulton County Courthouse and now he was on the run. My coworkers were talking about it a lot, but I didnt pay too much attention. Being from Augusta, I was used to hearing about violent crime in Atlanta. And I had a lot on my mind with the move anyway.

Look, I said to my step dad now as I shut my car door and headed back up to the apartment, this guys not going to come after me . I mean, he could be anywhere.

I thought back to the five police officers who had come into Barnacles for dinner. I was training to work the door, and as the men were walking out, I heard someone ask them, Hey, have yall caught that guy yet?

Oh, dont you worry about him, one officer said. Hes probably in Alabama by now.

I tried to reassure my step dad: You know, an officer who came into the restaurant said the guys probably in Alabama, so Ill be fine. Ive just gotten off work, and I have a few more things to get out of here. Then Im done. Ill be on my way to the other apartment in a few minutes. I promise.

Well, okay, my step-dad said. Just get home and get inside and dont leave.

Okay. Fine.

I loaded the rest of the trash into my car and drove the half mile or so to the other side of the apartment complex. I was thinking about what the next day would look like. I would see Paige in the morning. My Aunt Kim, who had custody of her right now, had brought her the two and a half hours from Augusta, and they were staying with my Uncle Davids family in Dacula, about thirty miles northeast of Atlanta toward Athens. We were all meeting up at Uncle Davids church at ten oclock for a kids ministry Olympics day.

Then I would work a day shift at Express in Gwinnett Place Mall and a night shift at Barnacles. It would be a full day, and I felt completely shot right now. I knew I just had to get to bed. I couldnt let myself do any more unpacking tonight. Maybe one or two boxes, but that was it. Really, Ashley, you cant get sucked into this .

I pulled up to my new apartment and parked right in front of the door. I didnt have far to carry my things, only ten or twelve steps up the walk. When I got inside, I pulled off my gray knit work shirt and black leather belt, which left me in a white tank top and a pair of baggy jeans. Then I turned on the TV in the living room.

Okay, I said, looking at the five or six boxes lined up in the middle of the floor. Just one or two.

While the news played in the background, I began unpacking the boxes and putting things where they belonged. The eight-by-ten photograph of Paige holding that red flower could go on top of my stereo speaker near the door. The two gold angel candleholders could sit on my picture table for nowI was going to hang them on either side of that mirror propped up on the back of the sofa.

Now and then as I worked I heard what the news anchors were saying: The man from the courthouse was still at large. Hed killed three people. There was something about a green Honda. I didnt hear much. Mainly, I was focused on getting my house the way I liked it. I knew exactly where I wanted thingsphotographs, candles, lamps, books, knickknacksand I just kept going.

At about eleven I stopped and smoked a couple of cigarettes. I only had one left in the pack now, but I purposely had not gone by the store after work to buy any more because I knew I was going to make it an early night. Looking around the apartment, I changed my plan just a little. I saw I was knocking out the boxes pretty quickly, and I thought, I could be done with this really soon and be able to see Paige tomorrow, go to work, come home, and not have to worry with this anymore. I can finish. I really can.

I kept working until all of the boxes were empty, setting out the last couple of chunky candles on my picture table in front of the two living room windows. Then I stacked up the empty boxes right behind the front door. I had done it. I was ahead of the game. It was after midnight, but I was finished. I smoked my last cigarette and began to get ready for bed.