In the Beginning…

A simple newspaper article set my heart racing, fired my imagination, and steeled my resolve: Detective John St. John’s story of capturing serial killers was the book I needed to write. But why him? Why me? What was it about this medal-winning homicide detective that I couldn’t let go?

None of it made sense. I had no background in law enforcement, no interest in crime writing, no contacts in police departments—my only brush with law enforcement was when my car was stolen. I hadn’t dreamed of joining the FBI or becoming a prosecuting attorney. For Pete’s sake, I wanted to write a sportsbook for kids.

And yet, after reading that article about St. John cracking a major serial murder case, I made the most spontaneous decision of my life: I picked up the phone and called him.

That moment changed everything.

Why did I do it? Why didn’t I just put the article down and head to the tennis court where my doubles partner was waiting? And why, after his partner told me he was on vacation, didn’t I sigh with relief and abandon the idea? Instead, the image of Detective John “Jigsaw” St. John took root in my mind, and I couldn’t think about anything else.

I called him the next day. And the day after that. Seven calls in total. Finally, he agreed to meet me—on one condition: I never call him again.

That call wasn’t just a turning point; it was the start of everything. Deep down, I knew: if I didn’t meet John St. John, the writer I wanted to be, the life I longed to live, and the journey I needed to take would never happen.