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PERFECT VICTIM by Christine Mcguire and Carla Norton

Copyright 1988 by Christine Mcguire and Carla Norton Quotes from The Collector by John Fowles used with permission of Little, Brown and Company, Boston, Massachusetts. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher. Inquiries should be addressed to Permissions Department, William Morrow and Company, Inc., 105 Madison Ave., New York, N.Y. 106.

was Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Mcguire, Christine.

their t Perfect victim. Thi 1. Hooker, Cameron-Trials, litigation,
etc.
McGu 2. Trials (Sex crimes)-California. 3. Yidnapping California. 1. Norton, Carla J. II. Title. KF224.H66M34 1988 345.73‘0254 88-6310 Hoolu ISBN 0-87795-957-9 347.305254 world Printed in the United States of America case. First Edition turban Hoi 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 umk BOOK DESIGN BY MARK STEW

DEDICATED TO COLLEEN JEAN STAN
Haelos review.

Author’s Note: This story is a reconstruction of actual events. The information given and crimes depicted are based on legal evidence, on statements and testimony given by those involved, on individual research, and on facts and personal experience related by the prosecutor of People v. Hooker, Christine Mcguire. Scaredy squirrel lesson plan. Given that the events occurred over such a long period, recollections of those involved sometimes varied, particularly in terms of chronology.

Where discrepancies arose, the most plausible version was presented, based on the fallible judgment of the authors.

To help protect the privacy of Colleen Stan and her family, her maiden name has been changed to a fictitious name, Martin.

Her mother’s current married name is fictitiously given as Grant.

And as a courtesy, the first names of Colleen’s youngest halfsister, and Cameron and Janice Hooker’s daughters and niece have also been changed.

CONTENTS Part One: Not Even a Scream 13 Part Two: The Chorus of Disbelief 53 Part Three: “K” 83 Part Four: Dangerous Precedents Part Five: Homecoming 121 Part Six: The Malleable Psyche 145 Part Seven: Return to Darkness 169 Part Eight: Scandal 183 Part Nine: Confession 205 Part Ten: The Machinery 237 Epilogue 375

Hear me, O God, as I voice my complaint; protect my life from the threat of the enemy.

Hide me from the conspiracy of the wicked, from that noisy crowd of evildoers, who sharpen their tongues like swords and aim their words like deadly arrows.

They shoot from ambush at the innocent man; they shoot at him suddenly, without fear.

They encourage each other in evil plans, they talk about hiding their snares; they say, “Who will see them?”

They plot injustice and say, “We have devised a perfect plan!”

Surely the mind and heart of man are cunning.

But God will shoot them with arrows; suddenly they will be struck down.

He will turn their own tongues against them and bring them to ruin; all who see them will shake their heads in scorn.

All mankind will fear; they will proclaim the works of God and ponder what he has done.

Psalm 64:1-9 As quoted from the Bible by Colleen Stan

PART ONE May 19 -November 1977

I never let her see papers. I never let her have a radio or television. It happened one day before ever she came I was reading a book called Secrets of the Gestapo-all about the tortures and so on they had to do in the war, and how one of the first things to put up with if you were a prisoner was the not knowing what was going on outside the prison. I mean they didn’t let the prisoners know anything, they didn’t even let them talk to each other, so they were cut off from their old world. And that broke them down.

The Collector, by John Fowles

Nobody who has not lived in a dungeon could understand how absolute the silence down here is. No noise unless I make it. So I feel near death. Buried.

Miranda, The Collector, by John Fowles

CHAPTER 1 NOT EVEN A SCREAM

Straddling the cool, green rush of the Sacramento River is a town too small and undistinguished to warrant a stop by most tourists. It’s a long way from postcard visions of the West Coast-no beach-front condos, few flashy sports cars, not even a whole lot of freeway.

This sleepy metropolis is the heart and capital of Tehama County, a bucolic expanse of olive, plum, walnut, and almond orchards; a few busy timber yards; and rolling cattle range.

Red Bluff got its name from the russet bluffs that plunge to the edge of the Sacramento River, cut there by time, glowing nearly iridescent in the afternoon sun. When early settlers steamed up from San Francisco on big paddle-wheelers in the 1850s, they spied those cliffs and christened this town after them-but most of today’s residents wouldn’t know that, so little time do they spend on that swift, dangerous river.

It must be the cattle ranchers that give that Southwestern twang to this place. Never mind the California address, chewing tobacco is more popular than alfalfa sprouts. Men in cowboy boots, denims, and an occasional Stetson stride up the sidewalks, and more than a few pickups rumble down the streets.

They say that Red Bluff’s annual Bull and Gelding Sale, held every January, is the biggest in the country. And Round-Up Week, a celebration of the “Best in the West,” tops off the silliness of a cowchip-throwing contest, a whisker-growing contest, and a roving jail for unlucky locals wearing non-Western garb, with what is billed as “America’s Biggest 2-Day Rodeo.”

With those new fastfood places and shopping centers sprouting up by the freeway, you’d think Red Bluff was booming, but in fact the population has only just crept past 10,500, and “going out of business” sales plague the older parts of town. The economy is depressed, the streets are quiet, the pace is slow. There’s not much to do here on a Saturday night.

Like other small towns, Red Bluff is a place with few secrets; broken marriages, accidents, and affairs are big news. But it’s a fine place to raise a family, a place where strangers still get a nod and a “hello” on the street, a place where old-fashioned values are upheld by the congregations of little churches that seem to stand on nearly every corner.

The heart of Red Bluff is still Main Street, a long, wide road with only two stoplights that lies on the edge of a downtown grid Col less than a mile square. The names of the streets running north and south are as all-American as a marching band: Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Lincoln. And those running east and west ring as honest as wood: Cedar, Hickory, Walnut, Pine, Oak, and Elm. The Tehama County Courthouse presides over it all.

Built in 1920, the impressive brick structure opens onto Washington Street, its front made appropriately solemn with massive columns and its entryway boasting trophies and ribbons from past rodeos, parades, and Little League championships.

Glary utilities 5 key. A right turn on Oak leads away from the interstate to an older, quieter part of town, where shade trees have grown large and houses have settled deep into their shrubbery. It’s a comfortable, quiet neighborhood, if not especially prosperous. Modest homes from the forties and fifties watch children pop w

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