March 20, 1991
Twenty-one-year-old Jessica Bergsten hangs her last dress in the closet and zips shut her now-empty suitcase. She can’t wait to unpack the rest of her clothes and belongings, but they’ll have to stay in boxes and other suitcases until she has a chance to buy furniture.
Looking around the small, sunny apartment she’s just moved into, Jessica tries to envision how she’s going to decorate—which quickly turns into fantasizing about the exciting new life that lies ahead.
After contemplating the decision for what felt like forever, she’s finally made the leap from Arizona to Southern California!
Jessica knows she has so much to do. Jobs to apply for, modeling agents to submit to, new friends to make. But then something dawns on her. She might be able to jump-start all of that with a single phone call.
After rummaging through some cardboard boxes, she digs out her leather-bound address book and makes a call.
On the fifth ring, a man groggily picks up. “Hello?”
“Hi, is this, um…Gator Rogowski?”
“I haven’t gone by either of those names in a long time. Who’s asking?”
“Oh. It’s Jessica. Jessica Bergsten. I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m a good friend of Brandi McClain’s. We met at a skate party in Phoenix, like, four years ago?”
After a solid six-second pause, Mark Rogowski exclaims, “Jess! Yeah, of course I remember you. Brandi used to talk about you all the time. How’s it going?”
“Really great, Mark, thanks! So, the reason I’m calling is…I know this is a little out of the blue…but I actually just moved to San Diego! I don’t really know anybody here, though—besides Brandi, of course. But we haven’t talked in, like, forever. I don’t even have her number anymore.”
“Yeah. Me neither.”
“Anyway…I know it’s been a while, but I was hoping maybe you and I could grab a bite or something? I’m sure you’re super busy, but maybe you could show me around the city, point out some fun places to hang out and party? You always seemed to know all the coolest underground spots.”
There’s another pause on the line. An even longer one this time.
Then Mark replies, “I’d love to.”
Jessica thrusts the cordless phone she’s holding into the air and does a short victory dance. After moving to town less than a week ago, she’s already hanging out with one of the raddest San Diegans she’s ever met!
Mark says he happens to be free that afternoon and suggests they grab lunch. He even offers to pick Jessica up from her new place in Pacific Beach. Jessica says she couldn’t be more excited—or grateful.
She’s just about finished getting ready—brushing her shoulder-length blond hair, applying mascara to highlight her bright blue eyes—when she hears the friendly toot of a car horn outside.
Mark, who’s even more handsome now than Jessica remembers, drives them about ten minutes to a cozy Italian bistro along the waterfront in La Jolla. Snagging a parking spot right out front, Mark carefully locks his steering wheel with the Club and then insists on walking around to the passenger side and opening Jessica’s door for her. She giggles, enjoying the gentlemanly act.
Over eggplant Parmesan and caprese salad, the two near strangers catch up. By the meal’s end, they’ve practically become old pals. Their conversation flows as easily as the bottle of wine they share.
Jessica is dazzled by Mark’s tales of his former pro-skater glory. She’s saddened that he and Brandi have broken up and lost touch, but deeply moved by his story of finding religion after his accident in Germany. Her past few years in Arizona, Jessica tells him, haven’t been nearly as eventful. She’s mostly spent them working a string of part-time jobs and partying. That’s a big reason she decided to move to San Diego in the first place: to break out of her routine; to jump-start a new life; and to pursue her dream of modeling, as Brandi did.
“Well, if she can do it, you can, too!” Mark says. “You look just like her. Always have.”
Their lunch stretches on for almost two hours, but their day together is just getting started. Mark drives Jessica all over the city, showing her his favorite beaches, bars, parks, hangouts, and of course Calvary Chapel, his beloved church.
At around dusk, Mark invites Jessica to come over and hang at his Carlsbad condo. She’s having such a good time with this attractive, charming guy, she couldn’t possibly say no.
They stop to rent some movies and buy a few bottles of wine. Back at his place, Mark pops a cork and then pops in a film. Jessica sits next to him on the sofa—and by the movie’s end, she has snuggled up close.
“This has been such a fun day, Mark,” Jessica says, yawning and reaching for her purse. “It’s getting late…but I really hope we can do it again sometime.”
“Me, too, Jess. Me, too.”
“Do you think you could give me a ride home?”
For a moment, Mark doesn’t answer. He simply stares at Jessica, his expression cloudy and intense. Then, just as suddenly, he brightens.
“Sure. Happy to. But, shit, you know what?” Mark pats the pockets of his jeans. “I think I left my wallet in the car, with my license in it. Why don’t you gather up your stuff, and I’ll go check and be right back?”
Jessica does so as Mark exits his condo. A few minutes later, she’s wandered over to the mantel in his living room to examine some old framed photographs.
“This picture of you skydiving is so awesome, Mark!” she calls to him when she hears the front door open. “I’ve always wanted to try, but I’m way too—”
Jessica turns to see Mark striding ominously toward her.
He’s holding the Club, its red steel glinting under the room’s light.
“Mark…?! What are you—oh, my God, no!”
Mark raises the Club and swings with all his might.
He makes contact with the back of Jessica’s skull.
Mark swings again. Then a third time.
Jessica crumples to the living room floor.