Gregory M. Cooper - Predators: Who They Are and How to Stop Them

H oney, where did I put my keys?

The young husband and father of two was running a little behind this particular morning, anxious to leave for work by 6 a.m. as he did every weekday.

Theyre on the counter, his wife called. Remember, you put them there last night so you could grab them on your way out.

Oh, yeah, he said, racing downstairs before giving his striking young wife a quick kiss good-bye. What would I do without you?

You certainly wouldnt have that clockwork lifestyle that keeps you tickin, she replied with a laugh.

Arent you funny, he retorted. Remember, we have dinner with my parents tonight, so Ill be home at five, right

I know, she interrupted with a smile. Right on the dot. Am I that predictable?

And then some, she said. Lets just say if you were a book, youd be illustrated with Sesame Street characters.

Ha, ha. It is to laugh, he shot back. Have a good day. I love you.

I love you, too, she said, giving her husband a kiss good-bye. Can I have a kiss, too, Daddy? the cute little four-year-old asked, her tone unnecessarily pleading. She knew her father could never resist her smile and bright blue eyes.

You want a kiss, too? the doting father teased. Well, I guess I can accommodate my other sweetheart.

With that, he bent down and gave his daughter a quick peck on the cheek before heading out.

In a way, he was predictable. He definitely preferred to have everything scheduled and executed at precisely the right time. Keeping a tight schedule enables one to maximize his time and productivity and is the mark of a responsible person.

The only problem, however, is that you never know who is keeping your schedule with you.

Outside their home that day, hiding just across the street, was the man who would change this young couples lives in a very tragic way. Slumped behind a row of bushes, Antonio Baptista observed the same thing he had spied every weekday over the last six weeks in this quiet Provo, Utah, neighborhood.

The young woman, so beautiful with her long, blond hair and natural warm smile, would always give her husband a quick kiss at the side door right at 6 a.m. It was a joy for this uninvited observer to watch her routine.

Shortly after her husband left for work, she would strap her two small children into the buggy, which she normally did around 7 a.m. for her daily run. Like her husband, she, too, liked to keep things on a schedule. She ran almost exactly two and a half miles every morning. The first leg of the run was a northerly ten-block jaunt up 900 East, before turning west for another three blocks, then heading back down toward her house on 600 East for another ten blocks and the stretch run home. Sometimes, if the unsuspected stalker had the time, he would follow her, admiring the perfectly contoured curves of her body. He quietly thrilled at the motions her body made as she jogged.

It was summertime, and she wore shorts, baring her irresistible legs for only him to see. In his mind, he was her only audience.

Or was he exclusive?

There was the matter of her husband, a man who obviously had little appreciation for his wifes beauty. If he did, the kisses he gave her in the morning wouldnt be so rushed, and he certainly wouldnt be in such a hurry to leave her.

The stalker wondered if this fool rushed their lovemaking. Was he so anxious to waste another precious minute to be productive in his career that he took for granted the beauty of the woman he was with?

Idiot! the stalker muttered to himself. Its time for her to be with a man who will appreciate her for her true beauty. Its time for her to be with a real man!

The stranger bolted from his hiding place to the couples back bedroom window and forced his way into the house. He looked for a place to hide, wanting to confront his fantasy lady without her seeing him and without children in the room. As he was searching, he heard her voice. He quickly tried to find a place to hide, but it was too late. As he turned the corner, she had already made her way down the hall, and the stunned young woman found herself at a loss for words as the stranger stood before her.

Hi, he said nervously. Its me. We finally get a chance to be alone.

E-excuse me? she stammered. Alone?

Yeah, he said, somewhat disappointed that she didnt share his enthusiasm for the encounter. You know, alone. We finally get to be together, away from that man you live with, from that boring life you want to get out of.

II think you must have me confused with someone else, she said, as she backed away. Im very happy with my life.

Come on, Sara, youre acting like you dont even know me. We see each other every day. We want to be together. Ive seen it in your eyes, the way you look at me.

Im sorry, she said, still backing away. I dont know what youre talking about.

She frantically began to look for the telephone. Where had she left it? What are you doing? he demanded. What do you mean you dont know what Im talking about? Oh, I see. Youve just been messing with me all this time. Is that it? Youre just using me to make him jealous. Well, Ill tell you what. Nobody uses me. I hate women like you. I hate you!

With that, she bolted from the bedroom into the hallway, but she didnt get far. He wrapped his hand tightly around her ponytail and dragged her to the ground, slamming her head against the bedroom door. I cant believe how ungrateful you are! he shouted. Then, a noise came echoing through the kitchen, a sound that sent shivers up the womans spine.

Mommy? said the tiny girls voice. Mommy? Whos here? He quickly pulled her back into the bedroom and shut the door.

Get rid of her, he demanded in a whisper.

Nobody, honey, she gulped. Just go back andand, check on the baby for me, OK, sweetie?

OK, Mommy.

In an instant, the little girl skipped away and the sound of pitterpattering feet quickly faded.

Please dont hurt my babies, she pleaded.

Nobody? Is that what I am to you? After all those moments weve had, and thats all you can say about me? You really are a user. Youre a taker!

Im sorry, she cried. You must have me confused with someone else. Ive never seen you before in my life.

Confused? Neither of us is confused, he said, grabbing a pillow from the bed and shoving it into her face. You know exactly who I am, and now youre trying to blow me off like Im some nobody!

She struggled to get the pillow off her face, but it only angered her attacker. He grabbed her and turned her onto her stomach. For a moment, she just lay on the floor, trying to catch her breath and relieved he hadnt suffocated her with the pillow. He seemed out of breath, too, so she thought she would try to smooth things over.

No, no, she said, trying to use the most reassuring voice possible. I swear. Im not trying to blow you off. I just dont know who you are. I think theres just been a misunderstanding. Maybe I look like someone you know. I dont know. But, I promise, if you leave, I wont say a word to anybody. I promise. Please, just dont hurt us.

If I leave? Dont hurt you? I cant believe youre saying this to me, he said. Youre just like all the rest of them. Im sick and tired of you chicks thinking you can just lead me on all the time and get away with it.

Leading you on? I dont even know you! she shouted, losing her composure. She wanted to hit him, but her arms were pinned underneath the weight of her own body. What gives you the idea I could have been leading you on? Please, just leave me alone. Stop doing this to me!

Stop doing what to you? What about what youre doing to me? What? What did I do to you?! she cried. Im sorry for whatever Ive done. Just let me go.

Like you dont know, he barked. You married chicks are all the same. You have your nice little perfect husband and family, your safe little world for everyone to see. Then, you see a guy like me and make your slutty eyes at me and have your slutty fantasies about me. You know what those little smiles mean. What, do you get off on making me want you then slamming the door in my face when I finally make my move? We both know what you want. Im tired of being nice about this. I came here for something, and Im taking it.