Questions filled my mind as I lay there. I was Mary Beth Anderson now,the girlfriend of a biker gang leader. I was dependant on him foreverything, so ...hat freedoms could I get on the road, when he decided totake me with him.After I had made him breakfast in the morning, he went out for a fewhours, again not telling me, then returned to the garage to work on hisbike. Curious about what went on in there, I looked through my extensivewardrobe and chose a short pink and black pleated tartan. It finally clicked that they were trying to weed out the true crime buffs and cold case fanatics: aspiring authors, wannabe detectives, creeps who collect crime scene photos. It was clear that my only aspiration was a paycheck and enough work to keep me out of trouble. I got the job.The warehouse was dusty and stank of slow decay. I was set up with a computer, a scanner, and an assortment of shredders and bins for the stuff to be discarded. I’d grab a big cardboard box off the racks, carry it. More

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