A Biography of Richard Beasley: The Craigslist Killer
Summit County, Ohio--a quiet midsize city that isn't really known for anything. In 2011, all of this changed when Summit resident Richard Beasley used Craigslist to create a job that didn't actually exist--it was all part of his plan to lure men in. It also examines how he convinced a 16 year old teen to help murder his victims.
Through gripping, page-turning, narrative this book tells the story of one of the most notorious Internet killers.
Through gripping, page-turning, narrative this book tells the story of one of the most notorious Internet killers.
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Excerpt
Prologue
Oh my God, he’s going to kill me, the man thought as he stared down the barrel of the revolver pointed at his head. Frozen in fear and disbelief, he was motionless for a split second before the adrenaline finally kicked in and he took off running. He had no idea where he was going. He had never been here before, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that he had to get away.
The man with the gun immediately fired at his fleeing target, hitting him in the arm and knocking him to the ground. Instantly though, before his killer could even level the gun again, the fallen man was on his feet and taking off, blood spurting from his injured arm.
Hoping to be out of the line of fire, the wounded man moved to the right and disappeared between two huge trees. He headed down a small incline, but it was slick and slimy, and he nearly lost his footing as he skidded down the slope. It was autumn, and the ground was layered with a thick bed of leaves. The injured man waved his arms in an effort to regain his balance, oblivious to any pain from the gunshot wound. He knew he must not fall. If he fell now, he was as good as dead.
As the ground leveled out, and he began to run again, he heard the roar of the revolver a second time, right behind him. He felt the rush of air as the bullet whizzed past his head, only inches away. Oh my God, he’s going to kill me, he thought again.
Diving into a cluster of brambles and bushes, the man was ignorant of the thorns and pickers that tore at his flesh, ripping his skin and leaving bloody tracks in their wake. His only thought was to get away from the maniac with the gun. Another shot rang out, deafening him, forcing him to push forward faster and faster. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, his ears ringing from the noise of the gun, his body shivering despite the slick coat of sweat that covered it.
Finally, breaking out of the dense foliage, the man stopped for a minute. He was disoriented, unsure of where to go or what to do. He was in a heavily wooded area, and everywhere he looked he saw only trees and bushes and stark barren branches. But the killer was still coming. He could hear him breaking through the bushes he had just exited, and he knew he couldn’t stop now. He had to get away.
Taking off, his legs rubbery with fear, he could hear his attacker chasing, and then the sharp crack of the revolver firing again. He knew he was going to die, and the thought terrified him. He ran faster, stumbling, falling, the sweat running into his eyes, blinding him. His head pounded dully, and he could hear nothing now but a loud buzzing in his ears. He wondered if he was going deaf.
Finally, when he could run no more and his heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest, the man stopped. He was near a slight gully; thick foliage and fallen branches littered the ground. He secreted himself in the midst of all this, behind a huge tree, listening for the sound of the man with the gun.
He could actually smell the fear coming off of him, and although unaware of it, he was whimpering softly. His arm was bleeding profusely, but he was oblivious to any pain at the moment.
Gradually, as his heartbeat settled down, his hearing began to return to normal. He could hear a dog barking somewhere off in the distance, and the caw of a crow nesting nearby. He listened harder, trying to hear the sound of someone following him, looking for him. But the woods were still, calm, and eerily quiet.
The man hid there, shocked, in pain, and trembling with fear. After a long time, he was convinced that he had outrun his attacker and he felt immense relief.
But even though he was certain the killer was no longer around, it would still be seven hours before the man felt safe enough to come out and seek help.
Chapter 1: Gone Missing
Fifty-six-year-old Ralph Geiger had certainly seen better days. In August of 2011, he was down on his luck, out of work, and living in a homeless shelter in Akron Ohio, trying desperately to get back on his feet.
It had not always been this way. Ralph had graduated from high school in the 1970’s and moved to California where he worked with his father in an antique shop. Returning to Ohio in the late 90’s, Ralph opened his own business and did quite well. A jack-of-all-trades, he was fairly successful, even to the point where he could hire some workers now and then, and made his living remodeling homes and doing odd jobs. But when the economy took a nosedive and the housing market crashed, so did Ralph’s business.
People no longer had the money to fix up their homes, and by late 2010 Geiger found himself unable to pay his rent. After being evicted from his duplex on Cluster Avenue, Geiger was forced to move into the homeless shelter where he had now been living since February.
He was thankful at least that he didn’t have a wife and small children to support. Although he told many people that he was divorced and had two daughters, according to his friend, Summer Rowley, Ralph was a lifelong bachelor. Still, he often introduced the 26-year-old Rowley as his daughter, a habit she didn’t mind. Despite their age difference, she and Ralph were best friends, and had been ever since he hired her to clean his house years ago. Ralph wasn’t real close to his own family, all of whom lived outside the state of Ohio, and Summer Rowley viewed the older man as a father figure. Ralph was the type of guy who would give you the shirt off his back.
By the summer of 2011, Geiger was visiting the public library every day, using their computer to search for jobs. In late July he told Summer Rowley that he had finally found a great one, although it is unclear if he found this on the internet or not. The job, he told her, was for someone to watch over a 600-acre cattle ranch, and do general maintenance around the property. Best yet, it also provided a two-bedroom mobile home, rent-free, and a $300 a week salary.
Summer was happy for her old friend; he deserved some luck for a change. And Ralph seemed happy about it too, telling her that the only drawback he could see to the job was that he would have to move to Tuscarawas County, and the ranch was so secluded that there was no cell phone service there. Still, he was excited about the prospect of working again, and finally getting back on his feet.
Rowley last talked to Ralph on August 8, 2011 when he called her from his cell phone. He told her he was headed down to Caldwell and would be starting his new job in a day or so. Summer wished him luck and told him to keep in touch.
But as the days and weeks passed with no word from him, Summer Rowley began to worry. It wasn’t like Ralph not to keep in touch. She tried to call his cell phone numerous times during September, but it always went straight to voicemail, and by October, she was getting a recorded message saying that the phone had been disconnected. Within days of hearing the recording, Rowley found someone entirely different answering Ralph’s phone. Apparently the phone company had re-issued his number to a new customer.
Although she worried a lot about her old friend, Summer Rowley never reported him missing because she didn’t know if he was missing. He had disappeared before and had always shown up eventually.
Had anyone happened to do a search on Ralph Geiger at the time they would have found that he was gainfully employed, although not on any cattle ranch. And they would have discovered that the man who was using Ralph Geiger’s name and social security number didn’t look like Ralph at all.
**********
Fifty-one-year-old David Pauley had had a rough couple of years. The father of one child, Pauley and his wife had divorced two years earlier, and the breakup of his marriage had left him unhappy and depressed. It was so hard to think about starting over when you were already in your fifties.
After his marriage broke up, Pauley found solace in his computer, surfing the web for all types of things. One night, in mid-October of 2011, David came across an ad posted on Craigslist that both interested and excited him. Under the help wanted section, he found someone looking for a farmhand / general maintenance person to run a 688-acre farm in rural Ohio. The job paid $300 a week and offered free use of a trailer on the property.
Pauley was intrigued. He lived in Norfolk Virginia, and the thought of getting out of the city for a while was extremely appealing to him. Rural Ohio, with all its rivers and lakes and open land, might just be the change he needed right now. Plus a free place to live would enable him to finally save up some cash. Eagerly, he responded to the ad and promptly received a reply.
Debra Bruce, David Pauley’s twin sister, kept in close contact with her brother, and on October 22, 2011, she was surprised to receive a call from him telling her he was staying at a Red Roof Inn in Parkersburg West Virginia, on his way to Ohio.
Debra could tell from his tone that her brother was both happy and excited, and he admitted that she was right. He quickly explained about the job listing he had found on Craigslist, mentioning that the farm was somewhere in Noble County, Ohio, and he was anxious to get there and start his new life. His truck, pulling a trailer filled with all his worldly possessions, was sitting outside in the parking lot.
The two siblings chatted for a while, and then Debra wished her brother luck and told him to keep in touch. David promised he would, noting that it might be only sporadically since there was no cell phone service on the farm, and then the two of them hung up. Each was unaware that they would never speak again.
**********
Forty-seven-year-old Timothy Kern was in a bit of a quandary. He needed a job, and thought he had found a good one, but it entailed moving, and he was reluctant to leave his children behind. Tim had been divorced since 1997 but remained close to his ex-wife and three sons, all of them living in the same city of Massillon.
Tim was a good father, seeing his boys almost every day and helping to coach their baseball team. When he wasn’t with them, father and sons kept in touch over Facebook.
On November 10, 2011 Tim posted on his Facebook wall that he had received a ‘strange’ job offer to oversee a 680-acre farm near Cambridge, Ohio. He went on to add that the job would furnish him with a two-bedroom trailer, rent and utilities included, and a hefty weekly paycheck. The only drawback to the job was that the farm was very secluded and received no cell phone service.
Tim worried about how he would keep in touch with his boys, but the job was simply too good to pass up, and he intended to move on Sunday. His only real regret was having to leave his kids behind, and he was sad about that.
On November 12th, Tim stopped by his ex-wife’s house to say goodbye and pick up some items he would need for the move. He spoke to his sons, spent some time with them, and then he left.
The next morning, one of Tim’s boys received a text message from him saying that he loved him. And that was last time anyone ever heard from Tim Kern again.
Oh my God, he’s going to kill me, the man thought as he stared down the barrel of the revolver pointed at his head. Frozen in fear and disbelief, he was motionless for a split second before the adrenaline finally kicked in and he took off running. He had no idea where he was going. He had never been here before, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that he had to get away.
The man with the gun immediately fired at his fleeing target, hitting him in the arm and knocking him to the ground. Instantly though, before his killer could even level the gun again, the fallen man was on his feet and taking off, blood spurting from his injured arm.
Hoping to be out of the line of fire, the wounded man moved to the right and disappeared between two huge trees. He headed down a small incline, but it was slick and slimy, and he nearly lost his footing as he skidded down the slope. It was autumn, and the ground was layered with a thick bed of leaves. The injured man waved his arms in an effort to regain his balance, oblivious to any pain from the gunshot wound. He knew he must not fall. If he fell now, he was as good as dead.
As the ground leveled out, and he began to run again, he heard the roar of the revolver a second time, right behind him. He felt the rush of air as the bullet whizzed past his head, only inches away. Oh my God, he’s going to kill me, he thought again.
Diving into a cluster of brambles and bushes, the man was ignorant of the thorns and pickers that tore at his flesh, ripping his skin and leaving bloody tracks in their wake. His only thought was to get away from the maniac with the gun. Another shot rang out, deafening him, forcing him to push forward faster and faster. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, his ears ringing from the noise of the gun, his body shivering despite the slick coat of sweat that covered it.
Finally, breaking out of the dense foliage, the man stopped for a minute. He was disoriented, unsure of where to go or what to do. He was in a heavily wooded area, and everywhere he looked he saw only trees and bushes and stark barren branches. But the killer was still coming. He could hear him breaking through the bushes he had just exited, and he knew he couldn’t stop now. He had to get away.
Taking off, his legs rubbery with fear, he could hear his attacker chasing, and then the sharp crack of the revolver firing again. He knew he was going to die, and the thought terrified him. He ran faster, stumbling, falling, the sweat running into his eyes, blinding him. His head pounded dully, and he could hear nothing now but a loud buzzing in his ears. He wondered if he was going deaf.
Finally, when he could run no more and his heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest, the man stopped. He was near a slight gully; thick foliage and fallen branches littered the ground. He secreted himself in the midst of all this, behind a huge tree, listening for the sound of the man with the gun.
He could actually smell the fear coming off of him, and although unaware of it, he was whimpering softly. His arm was bleeding profusely, but he was oblivious to any pain at the moment.
Gradually, as his heartbeat settled down, his hearing began to return to normal. He could hear a dog barking somewhere off in the distance, and the caw of a crow nesting nearby. He listened harder, trying to hear the sound of someone following him, looking for him. But the woods were still, calm, and eerily quiet.
The man hid there, shocked, in pain, and trembling with fear. After a long time, he was convinced that he had outrun his attacker and he felt immense relief.
But even though he was certain the killer was no longer around, it would still be seven hours before the man felt safe enough to come out and seek help.
Chapter 1: Gone Missing
Fifty-six-year-old Ralph Geiger had certainly seen better days. In August of 2011, he was down on his luck, out of work, and living in a homeless shelter in Akron Ohio, trying desperately to get back on his feet.
It had not always been this way. Ralph had graduated from high school in the 1970’s and moved to California where he worked with his father in an antique shop. Returning to Ohio in the late 90’s, Ralph opened his own business and did quite well. A jack-of-all-trades, he was fairly successful, even to the point where he could hire some workers now and then, and made his living remodeling homes and doing odd jobs. But when the economy took a nosedive and the housing market crashed, so did Ralph’s business.
People no longer had the money to fix up their homes, and by late 2010 Geiger found himself unable to pay his rent. After being evicted from his duplex on Cluster Avenue, Geiger was forced to move into the homeless shelter where he had now been living since February.
He was thankful at least that he didn’t have a wife and small children to support. Although he told many people that he was divorced and had two daughters, according to his friend, Summer Rowley, Ralph was a lifelong bachelor. Still, he often introduced the 26-year-old Rowley as his daughter, a habit she didn’t mind. Despite their age difference, she and Ralph were best friends, and had been ever since he hired her to clean his house years ago. Ralph wasn’t real close to his own family, all of whom lived outside the state of Ohio, and Summer Rowley viewed the older man as a father figure. Ralph was the type of guy who would give you the shirt off his back.
By the summer of 2011, Geiger was visiting the public library every day, using their computer to search for jobs. In late July he told Summer Rowley that he had finally found a great one, although it is unclear if he found this on the internet or not. The job, he told her, was for someone to watch over a 600-acre cattle ranch, and do general maintenance around the property. Best yet, it also provided a two-bedroom mobile home, rent-free, and a $300 a week salary.
Summer was happy for her old friend; he deserved some luck for a change. And Ralph seemed happy about it too, telling her that the only drawback he could see to the job was that he would have to move to Tuscarawas County, and the ranch was so secluded that there was no cell phone service there. Still, he was excited about the prospect of working again, and finally getting back on his feet.
Rowley last talked to Ralph on August 8, 2011 when he called her from his cell phone. He told her he was headed down to Caldwell and would be starting his new job in a day or so. Summer wished him luck and told him to keep in touch.
But as the days and weeks passed with no word from him, Summer Rowley began to worry. It wasn’t like Ralph not to keep in touch. She tried to call his cell phone numerous times during September, but it always went straight to voicemail, and by October, she was getting a recorded message saying that the phone had been disconnected. Within days of hearing the recording, Rowley found someone entirely different answering Ralph’s phone. Apparently the phone company had re-issued his number to a new customer.
Although she worried a lot about her old friend, Summer Rowley never reported him missing because she didn’t know if he was missing. He had disappeared before and had always shown up eventually.
Had anyone happened to do a search on Ralph Geiger at the time they would have found that he was gainfully employed, although not on any cattle ranch. And they would have discovered that the man who was using Ralph Geiger’s name and social security number didn’t look like Ralph at all.
**********
Fifty-one-year-old David Pauley had had a rough couple of years. The father of one child, Pauley and his wife had divorced two years earlier, and the breakup of his marriage had left him unhappy and depressed. It was so hard to think about starting over when you were already in your fifties.
After his marriage broke up, Pauley found solace in his computer, surfing the web for all types of things. One night, in mid-October of 2011, David came across an ad posted on Craigslist that both interested and excited him. Under the help wanted section, he found someone looking for a farmhand / general maintenance person to run a 688-acre farm in rural Ohio. The job paid $300 a week and offered free use of a trailer on the property.
Pauley was intrigued. He lived in Norfolk Virginia, and the thought of getting out of the city for a while was extremely appealing to him. Rural Ohio, with all its rivers and lakes and open land, might just be the change he needed right now. Plus a free place to live would enable him to finally save up some cash. Eagerly, he responded to the ad and promptly received a reply.
Debra Bruce, David Pauley’s twin sister, kept in close contact with her brother, and on October 22, 2011, she was surprised to receive a call from him telling her he was staying at a Red Roof Inn in Parkersburg West Virginia, on his way to Ohio.
Debra could tell from his tone that her brother was both happy and excited, and he admitted that she was right. He quickly explained about the job listing he had found on Craigslist, mentioning that the farm was somewhere in Noble County, Ohio, and he was anxious to get there and start his new life. His truck, pulling a trailer filled with all his worldly possessions, was sitting outside in the parking lot.
The two siblings chatted for a while, and then Debra wished her brother luck and told him to keep in touch. David promised he would, noting that it might be only sporadically since there was no cell phone service on the farm, and then the two of them hung up. Each was unaware that they would never speak again.
**********
Forty-seven-year-old Timothy Kern was in a bit of a quandary. He needed a job, and thought he had found a good one, but it entailed moving, and he was reluctant to leave his children behind. Tim had been divorced since 1997 but remained close to his ex-wife and three sons, all of them living in the same city of Massillon.
Tim was a good father, seeing his boys almost every day and helping to coach their baseball team. When he wasn’t with them, father and sons kept in touch over Facebook.
On November 10, 2011 Tim posted on his Facebook wall that he had received a ‘strange’ job offer to oversee a 680-acre farm near Cambridge, Ohio. He went on to add that the job would furnish him with a two-bedroom trailer, rent and utilities included, and a hefty weekly paycheck. The only drawback to the job was that the farm was very secluded and received no cell phone service.
Tim worried about how he would keep in touch with his boys, but the job was simply too good to pass up, and he intended to move on Sunday. His only real regret was having to leave his kids behind, and he was sad about that.
On November 12th, Tim stopped by his ex-wife’s house to say goodbye and pick up some items he would need for the move. He spoke to his sons, spent some time with them, and then he left.
The next morning, one of Tim’s boys received a text message from him saying that he loved him. And that was last time anyone ever heard from Tim Kern again.
