The realization that she may have dated a murderer – that she could have become one of his victims – visibly weighed on Lisa Shupkin as she told the detectives with grey temples about her time with Wayne Stuart Yates. She gave them a letter, a token she saved as a joke to ‘brag’ about the creepiest man she ever dated, which was about to become a piece of evidence in the trial of a suspected serial killer. It was a love letter written to – not about – her eyes, pining to preserve them forever in a jar set upon his nightstand so they would be the first thing he saw in the morning, and the last thing he saw at night. They pored over the details and Whit asked about a reference to a mantle, if it was just poetic license or if he used to have a mantle somewhere in his old house? Lisa explained with bemusement that he was referring to his stepfather’s cabin, and the look on their faces told her that this was the first they heard about the cabin and her heart sank even deeper. Lisa had been to the cabin many times, seen the things Wayne had done to animals, his “collection”; if the detectives had enough evidence without stepping foot in the cabin, the last fleeting dram of doubt about Wayne’s guilt evaporated from her mind.