In a previous career, I used to drive out into the desert near the California-Nevada border to work. I was an EMT at a large hotel-casino complex along Interstate 15.
On the morning of May 25, 1997, I arrived to find crime-scene tape and a guard posted at the entrance to the downstairs ladies room. Co-workers told me there was a dead body inside, a murder victim.
She was Sherrice “Sherry” Iverson of Los Angeles. Her killer was 18-year-old Jeremy Strohmeyer, an adopted child in a prosperous, well-respected Long Beach family. At the time of the killing, Jeremy’s biological father was in prison and his biological mother was in a mental hospital.
He was a porn addict, and he wrote in an Internet chat room of his violent sexual fantasies. His adoptive parents had no idea.
Jeremy traveled to our hotel-casino from Long Beach with his friend David Cash, 17. David’s dad drove. You have to be 21 to gamble in Nevada, so Jeremy and David went downstairs to the arcade.
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