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Cycling into terror

As my sister Mickey set off into the darkness, it was the last time she'd be seen alive...


Published by: Henry Austin and Jean Jollands
Published on: 8 November 2012

Cycling behind my sister Michaela was like racing Wonder Woman! ‘Slow down, will you?' I panted. ‘We haven't all got legs of steel!'
She tossed her long, wavy blonde hair over her shoulder and grinned back at me. ‘Sorry, sis,' she winked. ‘I know it's harder for you oldies to keep up!' ‘Oi, cheeky!' I chuckled, finally catching up. That was Michaela, 21, all over. She looked like a real girly girl but she was strong, sassy, and quick with the one-liners! It was a warm, dusky evening and we were cycling to a friend's party. Me and Michaela, who everyone called ‘Mickey', were both college students and we'd always been close. Even though I was studying in Dallas while Michaela at our hometown college of Lafayette, USA, barely a day went by without us texting or calling. But now we were both back home to attend the high school graduation of our younger brother Zack, 17, in three days' time. ‘I can't believe our baby brother's all grown up!' I giggled later at the party as we cradled our drinks. ‘Hey, remember the time he was three and we put him in a dress and introduced him to the neighbours as our cousin Amelia,' she chuckled. ‘Oh, god!' I laughed, reminiscing.
But Zack wasn't the only one growing up. The day after Zack's graduation, Michaela would be celebrating her 22nd birthday. ‘I'm determined to celebrate in style!' she grinned now, swaying to the drum and bass beat.
She was the outdoors type, loved horse riding and was always up for adventure. The day before her big day, we were planning to go tubing - riding an inner tube over the water - at nearby Denham Springs. ‘Hope you're not afraid of getting soaked little lady!' she teased me.
I felt proud she'd grown into a strong woman, her shy, awkward, teenage years well behind her!
That next morning, I decided to visit a friend and popped into Mickey's room before I left to see if she wanted to come, too. She was going to visit her friend Brettly instead but she had a glint in her eye as she leant up against her pillow.
‘You know, Charlene, I'm really looking forward to this summer. First, Zack's graduation, then my birthday. I'm determined to get out, party and live a little!'
‘I'll second that!' I grinned, closing her bedroom door behind me as I set off.
Later that evening, I texted Michaela. I don't want you waking up late and missing Zack's big day! I typed.
Don't worry, I'll be there on time, Momma Bear! she texted back. Momma Bear was Michaela's pet name for me, even though I was only two years older than her! But, the following morning, as we all got dressed excitedly for the graduation, there was no sign of her. Where are you? I texted.
‘There's no way she'd miss it!" Zack insisted, wolfing down the rest of his breakfast. ‘She must've stayed at Brettly's and is just running late.'
But, over those next hours, we grew increasingly anxious as Michaela didn't answer her calls.
And, later, as we watched Zack and his classmates graduate, Michaela's chair was still empty. Back home, we started calling her friends. ‘She left mine at 2am,' Brettly said.
‘Oh, god, something terrible's happened,' my mum Nancy Anne fretted. ‘She'll turn up. There's no way she'll miss her birthday,' I insisted. I refused to believe anything had happened to my sister. But the following day, Michaela's 22nd birthday came and went, and her presents stayed unwrapped. I kept staring at the Chanel perfume I'd bought her, imagining her face when she opened it. And we were meant to be celebrating at a dance concert. ‘Come home for these,' I whispered.
My parents called the police, while her friends sent out Facebook appeals, and we combed the streets searching for her. ‘The last sighting of her is from a witness who saw her cycling off from her friend's house in the early hours,' an officer explained. ‘And then she just seems to have vanished.' Sitting there,
I remembered the time when we were kids and I'd planned to go out biking with my mates. Mum asked me to take Michaela with me, too. ‘Do I have to?' I sulked. ‘I have to take her everywhere!' But now I would have done anything to have my little sis safe and sound with me.
As the days wore on, Brettly and Michaela's friends set up a base at his house, helping to coordinate the search for her. We made frantic appeals, hundreds of messages of hope poured into our family from locals. But, eight days later, officers turned up at the house. ‘I'm afraid we've found her bike...' one said. It had been found submerged in a swampy area under a highway bridge in Iberville Parish - 30 miles from where she'd last been seen. ‘And it looks like someone did their best to hide it...'
A thorough search of the site revealed nothing else of Mickey's - no wallet, no clothing. Nothing.
‘Maybe she was in a bike accident,' I babbled, frantically, avoiding Mum's eyes. ‘Maybe she was injured, lost her memory and someone's taken her in.'
Anything to avoid thinking the worst - that someone had hurt her. The police vowed to continue their investigations, releasing CCTV footage of vehicles seen on her route home. Watching it on the news, my heart broke all over again.
‘Where are you?' I whispered, touching the screen as, in jerky movements, she cycled across the TV. What - or who - was she cycling towards? I wanted to reach inside the TV, pull her out to safety.
There was a chink of light when anonymous donors paid for private investigator John Abdella to look into the case.
Two weeks after Michaela went missing, he contacted us to say that it was possible a man named Brandon Scott Lavergne might be involved in Michaela's disappearance. As I poured over the computer to do an internet search on the name, my fingers trembled as it revealed an ugly history. Released from prison in 2008, Lavergne had served an eight-year sentence for carrying out a previous sexual assault. He was also suspected in the murder of Lisa Ann Pate, 33, back in July 1999, I read, horrified. He'd been released through lack of evidence.
The thought of this man having anything to do with Michaela's disappearance sickened me to the core. I did my best to stay strong but, two days later, Lavergne was charged with first-degree murder and aggravated kidnapping. But he denied everything and still the police had no body. ‘But they can't be sure,' I said, desperately. ‘She might still be alive.'
I clung to that through the following month, until the police asked our dad Tom, 65, to come in. Soon, he called home. ‘They're pretty sure they've found her body,' he said, voice cracking. The body was badly decomposed and they had to do tests. ‘But it doesn't look good...' he trailed off.
Nausea bubbled in my mouth. My beautiful little sister? This couldn't be happening. Then my final flickers of hope were extinguished. Police confirmed the body was hers.
‘It was found buried in remote woodland, north of Lafayette,' a detective told us.
Falling to the floor, my body racked with sobs. ‘Please, no!' I howled. What had that monster done to her?
I thought back to when she was 18 and we'd gone to a concert with friends. ‘Stick close to me,' I ordered, as we mingled among the crowds. ‘Hey, chill out!' my friend Dani had laughed. ‘She's a big girl now.' I'd been so protective, but I hadn't been there to protect her from the claws of this monster.
Through the grief, my heartbroken family needed answers.
We soon got them when the detective leading in the case turned up at the door. ‘We think you'd all better sit down,' he hushed to me, Dad, Zack and Mum. Lavergne, 33, had previously denied all knowledge of Michaela's disappearance.
‘But with the death penalty on the table, he's changed his tune,' the detective admitted. ‘As part of a plea bargain, he's admitted he killed Michaela and exactly how she died.' Clutching Mum's hand, I listened as he told the full, grisly details of Michaela's last terror-filled moments.
According to Lavergne, on the night of May 19 this year, he followed Michaela with his truck as she rode her bike home from Brettly's at 2am. He said he had been driving around and calling escort services on his cell phone.
‘He drove into her on purpose,' the detective revealed. ‘Sending her bike crashing down.
As she lay on the ground, Michaela desperately tried to call for help on her mobile.' My heart wrenched. Had she been trying to call me? Lavergne had wrenched the phone from her and pulled out a knife. ‘But Michaela managed to grab a canister of mace from her bag and sprayed him in the face,' he continued. ‘Lavergne then stabbed her at least four times.' The thought of her suffering tore me in two. I thought the officer had finished, but he had more to tell us. ‘Lavergne thought Michaela was dead and drove her to a sugar cane field where he planned to dump her body. But she'd only been playing dead and jumped up, grabbed the knife and plunged it into his chest.'
The detective seemed amazed by the resistence shown by Michaela, but it was no surprise to me. My strong, stubborn, brave sister had fought to the end. ‘I knew if someone had tried to hurt her, the guy would be hurting pretty soon himself, too,' I murmured, tears flowing.
I remembered the time I went out with one boyfriend and was constantly rowing with him. Michaela hated him so much for upsetting me, she refused to talk to him point blank. ‘No one messes with my family,' she vowed. And no one messed with her...
As the detective relayed the facts, I could feel myself urging Michaela on, willing her to survive. But I already knew the outcome of this story. There would be no happy ending. Despite the wound Michaela had inflicted on her attacker, he managed to pull out a semi-automatic handgun and shot her in the head, killing her instantly. He'd dumped her body in deserted woodland because he didn't have the strength to bury her after the wounds she'd inflicted. He'd even gone to hospital to be treated. Lavergne was eventually captured when police stopped him in a routine traffic search and realised he was a registered sex offender who hadn't reported in to a police station when he should have. Police surveillance images also showed Lavergne's white pick-up truck in the area where Michaela had gone missing.
The fact she fought so valiantly for her life was some comfort as we were finally allowed to bury her body and lay her to rest. But still I tortured myself with ‘what ifs.'
‘If only she'd been five minutes later, that monster would never have spotted her and she'd still be with us today,' I sobbed.
Our family took our seats in court when Lavernge was finally made to answer for his crimes. Mean-faced, with cropped hair, he couldn't even look me in the eye.
The one good thing to come out of the trial was that Lavergne also admitted to killing Lisa Ann Pate. At least my family hadn't had to wait over a decade to get justice like hers. Lavergne received two life sentences. But it wouldn't bring back my sister.
Recently, we held a community celebration of her life. Closing my eyes, I mouthed the words of the statement Mum had made after we found out how hard Michaela had fought.
She said: ‘Michaela refuses to be a victim.' My brave, beautiful sister fought for her life right to the very end.
Charlene Shunick, 24, Lafayette, Louisiana, USA