Aphrodite Jones - The Embrace: A True Vampire Story

Aphrodite Jones

Copyright 2007 by Aphrodite Jones
Interior Design by BEAUTeBOOK
Published by Crime Rant Books
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

The one constant in my professional life has been my agent, Matt Bialer, who has provided me with balance, courage, and faith, particularly in these past two years, a trying period, during which I composed The Embrace. For this, I thank him.

For her immense confidence, her tireless enthusiasm, and for being a wonderful and caring friend, I also thank my editor, Jane Cavolina of Pocket Books. If it hadnt been for Janes vision, this book would never have existed.

For other forms of advice, counsel, and blessings, I owe a great debt to several attorneys. In alphabetical order, they are Howard Babb, Thomas Carle, Greg Galloway, Michael Graves, Harry Hackney, David Harrington, Candace Hawthorne, Brad King, David Norris, Jeffery Phister, Mary Ann Plecas, and Lou Tally. Other blessings came from John Parsons, who encouraged me to travel to Murray with an HBO crew, and from David Hered, who made me realize just how important it was to spend time behind bars, talking face-to-face with these teens.

I also wish to thank Debbie Allen of the state attorneys office, who was instrumental in supplying me with essential court documents; Deputy Linda Ward, the evidence supervisor, who offered me access to everything, including Ricks knife, Ruths pearls, and Heathers teddy bear; and Sheriff Stan Scott, who shared with me various diaries, artworks, and letters, confiscated from the residence of Roderick Ferrell.

Of the countless media sources I used for reference material, I thank the news teams of WESH-TV, WFTV, WKMG, Fox 35, and Court TV, Henry Stephens of the Daily Commercial, Walter Apperson and Jim Mahanes of the Murray Ledger & Times, and Frank Stanfield of the Lake Sentinel. I also thank my hosts at Mission Inn Golf and Tennis Resort and the Lakeside Inn of Mount Dora, two beautiful Lake County lodging establishments, where I was treated with kid gloves.

For their transcriptions, phone calls, extreme efforts, and loyalty, I would like to thank my assistants Cathlyn Baker, Louis Flores, Amy Sims, and Lynn Balthazor. These people became my lifes blood during the research-gathering process, but above all, I wish to single out Cathlyn and Louis, whose work involved creative input as well.

For their cooperation, and for having the strength to see the bigger picture and make sense of this tragedy, I thank Heather and Jennifer Wendorf, Paula and Samantha Queen, Charity Kessee, Jeanine LeClaire, and Matt Goodman.

Finally, more than anyone realizes, it has been my close friends who have seen me through this work. Without their love and emotional support, I would never have been able to produce it. I love you, I thank you, and I need you in my life.

No one holds command over me. No man. No God. No Prince. What is a claim of power for ones who defy death? Call your damnable hunt. We shall see whom I drag screaming to hell with me.

VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE

My soul vast, filled with the evils of the world.
My eyes cold with pain and suffering. What is to become of these foolish mortals
who dare to cross my path?

RODERICK JUSTIN FERRELL

The characters in this book are real. The story is true, the dialogue comes from recollections of the participants, but it bears mentioning that I have altered certain details. Though this is a work of nonfiction, I have taken certain storytelling liberties in writing the narrative, and, in one case, combined two characters into one. These alterations apply strictly to the innocent and exist primarily to disguise peoples identities. In terms of the court and police proceedings, the narrative remains faithful to the events as they really happened. I have drawn upon court records, psychological reports, sworn depositions, and news stories, all of which allowed me to re-create the events and words of the participants.

Though I have utilized proven sources of journalistic research, this book also relies on hundreds of hours of interviews with dozens of people who were kind enough to share their secrets. It is through their remembrances and thoughts that I have been able to imagine Roderick and re-create the essence of his being. I did manage to meet with Rods mother once. As we spoke, she sat clutching a copy of Interview with the Vampire. I also met with Rod face-to-face, at the Lake County Jail. For what its worth, he still believes he is immortal.

It was cold in central Florida the day Rod arrived back in Lake County. He knew the place as well as anyone could; the ridges in the roads, the little bridges crossing over lakes, the Spanish moss dangling above orange groves. The passengers with Rod could feel the old red car go clip-clop, like the wheels of a wagon crossing over a bridge that was carrying them to some prehistoric time.

He had promised them an ancient place. Lake County was foreign to Rods friends, and the waters of Little Lake Harris made things feel like they were traveling through a gray mist. It almost seemed like they were in a fog, with smoke lifting up from the lakes, large mirrors to the gray sky. It sure wasnt the sunny Florida any of these kids from Kentucky had dreamed about. Even though they were only thirty minutes north of Orlando, the place felt ominous. It wasnt any Disney World... not even close.

Charity was disappointed. Shed been hearing about Lake County for nine months now, but it turned out it was just a hick stomping ground, with farms and groves and little church steeples, where the people moved slow and the weeds grew high.

She and Rod planned to be married, and she had so hoped Lake County would have more to offer than golfing and tennis and a bunch of fruit stands. When Rod turned off the highway onto Main Street in Tavares, he made a stop at a seedy place called Toms Grocery.

Charity let Rod know she felt homesick. She and her girlfriend Dana wanted to head back to Kentucky. But Rod didnt seem to hear her. Instead, he motioned to his buddy, Scott, to take the wheel. Rod needed cigarettes, he was edgy. Rod was tired of being nagged. After hours of nonstop driving in a junky Buick, the four of them were getting on each others nerves.

The girls complained they were hungry, but Rod came out of the grocery empty-handed. He requested that Scott drive a couple more miles down the road to Eustis, where there was a K Mart, so he could pick up razor blades. While Rod was in there, he grabbed a box of Little Debbie cakes and a few Dr Peppers, hoping that would keep Dana and Charity quiet. As he stood at the pay phone in front of K Mart, Rod scrounged for change and fumbled through the white pages. The neon and glare of the business district was a far cry from the creepy setting they had first come upon.

Things seemed dismal, but Charity figured they wouldnt be hanging around Eustis for long. Rod was right, Lake County wasnt what Charity had in mind. She wanted excitement. Already, shed seen enough of central Florida, and she suddenly understood why Rod had promised to come get Heather. No wonder Heather wanted out of this place. There was nothing to dono big malls, no movie complexes, not even an arcade.