Yet, I don’t believe the cliffhanger is entirely transparent at this sitting. One, the Suffolk County Police haven’t been able to recover Shannan’s remains yet (in the boggy muck and thickets), although they did manage to find her pocketbook with a photo ID, her jeans and shoes, and even her cell phone. I have one question for Commissioner Dormer, though.
How could they find her jeans and shoes but not her body? Had Shannan already taken these items off as she waded through the quicksand-like bog, struggling to stay afloat as she sank deeper and deeper in the muck? This makes little sense that her body was not still inside her jeans. Well, I suppose, wild animals could have taken it out, or perhaps it was Hurricane Irene, which could have disturbed the scene.
And what about the dramatic events that proceeded her possible drowning? Was it Michael Pak (Shannan’s chauffeur that night) who confronted Gus Colletti (a neighbor of Joseph Brewer), wanting to know if a frantic girl had just been around? Is Michael Pak the oriental man in a sports utility vehicle that ominously searched the neighborhood for a lost girl? This is what the authorities are now saying.
This state of mind can often be attributed to methamphetamines. Michael Pak might be able to shed some light on what may have happened to Shannan. If she did too much bad meth, then this would explain a lot about that the strange occurrences of that spring night. She places a twenty minute 911 call, where she is paranoid that someone is after her. I always assumed this must be the ‘Seaside Sicko’ who was trying to get her.
And the irony that a search for Shannan Gilbert, one year ago, leads to a makeshift graveyard created courtesy of a clever serial killer, is a coincidence that makes it hard to unglue SG from the other ten cases. The randomness of these two seemingly connected events contributes to my inability to disassociate one from the other. The Craigslist link is another difficult obstacle to overcome.
Michael Pak has said that Shannan had often expressed her belief that she would one day be famous. Here’s another layer of mordancy, it’s under mostly bizarre circumstances that Shannan is now famous. SG is a one off loose end, a smokescreen for a crackerjack of a tricky phantom, who is laughing as the cops are cold on his trail. In this case the dots don’t connect, yet they do in an extraordinary paranormal way, if you get my drift.
