By Don Lasseter
No proof. . .
On April 22, 1991 3 teenagers waited for his or her mom, Ann Racz, to come with a takeout dinner. as a substitute, their father confirmed up with a small bag of chilly French fries and stated their mom had long gone away. Ann's little ones did not think it. Neither did her buddies. And neither did the police. yet there has been 0 proof that whatever had occurred to Ann.
No physique. . .
Los Angeles detectives dug furiously into the case, grilling John Racz and looking for clues. yet with out a physique, the research stalled, and 3 young ones grew up puzzling over what had occurred to their loving mother—and if their father had killed her.
And A Killer In undeniable Sight. . .
Fourteen years later, an excellent lady prosecutor defied the criminal institution and delved into the chilly case, uncovering surprising information regarding Ann and her dating with John. without warning, a crusading prosecutor was once up opposed to the main tricky type of murder...
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Additional info for You'll Never Find My Body
Example text
She wanted me to be there after the movers left, but before she had to pick up the kids at two o’clock. So I went to her house on Fortuna Drive and helped her with some boxes she didn’t want the movers to take. ” Ann revealed to Dee Ann that she had left a “Dear John” letter for her husband. “She told me that she wrote it, placed it in an envelope, and put it on the kitchen table for him to find. I didn’t read it but saw the envelope on the table, with ‘John’ printed on it. She was very determined not to talk to him until he had read the letter.
Despite this financial stability, the edginess between John and Ann grew, and Ann mentioned to her friend the possibility of divorce. Dee Ann later said, “I remember we were in a swimming pool at her homeowner’s association. The kids—four, five, or six years old—were splashing around in the water. ” The two women discussed Ann’s growing problems in detail for years. Dee Ann recalled it: “She and I often went to the movies on Thursday nights at the Plaza Theater, which is no longer there. They had double features for seventy-five-cents admission.
My father had two choices. He could stay on Sand Island without his family, or could take his family with him to a relocation camp on the mainland. Several families chose to do that. I wouldn’t call Sand Island a relocation camp, it was more like a prison. ’ I had classmates who also were sent to camp. One of them’s father was a Buddhist minister. Another classmate had parents who were born in Japan and considered aliens. But we who were born in Hawaii, and were citizens, wondered how come we had to go.
