In Raytown, Missouri, a box of doughnuts turned into a doorway to the past. While covering the decades-old murder of Sarah Blessing, a local resident stepped forward with a chilling memory—one that police had never heard. He’d never spoken about it. Not to detectives. Not to reporters. But seeing our crew reopened something inside him. What he shared may offer a fresh lead in a case that’s haunted this small town for over 30 years.
Sometimes, the leads come to you when least expected. Even 30 years later.
In Raytown, where Sarah Blessing was murdered at a strip mall, our crew was preparing to leave when we noticed some people had gathered in the middle of the shopping center. Then a woman approached us.
“These are for you,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”
And she handed us a box of doughnuts.
“Thank you,” I said, handing the box to my photographer Chuck Delaney, who I knew would take good care of them.
“You are here for that poor girl who was killed a long time ago,” she said.
“We are,” I told her. “How did you know?”
“It is all over Facebook this morning,” she answered. “Somebody saw your crew here, and we figured it must have been about that serial killer.”
“Yes ma’am,” I told her.
“Well, I just wanted to thank you for keeping her memory alive,” she said.
“Did you know her?” I asked.
“Oh no,” the woman said. “That was a very long time ago. So sad.”
I thanked her again and we started up the car to leave.
And then a car pulled up next to us, and a man rolled down his window.
“Are you the folks doing a story on the serial killer?” he asked.
“Yes sir, I am,” I said. “How did you know?”
The man looked nervous, and I wondered what he wanted.
“I saw on Facebook that you were coming out here today,” he said.
I nodded. There was a pause.
“I was here that day,” he finally said.
I just looked at him. Police had told me they were not aware of any additional witnesses in Raytown.
“Did you talk to the police?” I asked.
“No, I never did,” he said.
I gave the man the Raytown Police Department telephone number.
“Did you know Sarah?” I asked.
“No, I did not,” he said.
“Will you talk to me?” I asked. “Can you tell me what you saw?”
He said no, but thanked me for coming and doing the story. He prepared to leave, then suddenly turned off his car and stepped out.
“Do you have to use my name?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
He waited.
“Okay, I will tell you what I saw. Let’s walk over there.”
The man pointed to the same side of the strip mall as Sarah Blessing’s store, to Ginger’s Restaurant, just a few doors down at the other end. We began walking.
“I was eating my dinner at Ginger’s Restaurant,” the man said. “It was still early in the evening, and it was just starting to get busy there that night. I remember watching this guy walking in and he is just looking around, like he was scanning the restaurant. I saw a waitress walk up to him and told him he could just sit anywhere he wanted to, and someone would come by to wait on him. The man did not even acknowledge her. He just looked at her and then he turned around and just walked out. I just remember thinking ‘that is kind of odd that you would do that in a family restaurant.’ There were plenty of tables available for him to pick from, but like I said, he just turned, left, and walked out the door. It was like he was scanning the joint. He was maybe around six feet tall, and very well dressed. It was very chilling when I think back about it. I remember just having a very odd feeling about the guy anyway. When I heard about the murder, I just always in my mind wondered if that was him. You think to yourself ‘Was that the guy?’ It is kind of chilling to think you might have been that close to the guy. It is a mystery I hope someday gets solved.”
I tried to ask the man a few more questions.
“I can’t,” he said. “That is all I can say. All I really know is what I saw in this restaurant. But I am pretty sure I saw the killer. It still bothers me.”
I thanked the man, we shook hands, and I reminded him to call the police and tell them his story. And we finally pulled out of Raytown.
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