Best Friends Forever

​

Sheryl Bonaventura was supposed to be packing her skis, not picking up her paycheck. The 18-year-old blonde with sparkling blue eyes had promised her best friend Kristal they'd hit the slopes together that Thursday afternoon in March 1984. Instead, she made a quick detour to Mesa Mall in Grand Junction, Colorado—a decision that would cost her everything.

​

It was meant to be such an ordinary day. Sheryl, casually dressed in her favourite white Cherokee sweatshirt, faded Levis, and rust-colored cowboy boots with silver toe caps, just needed to grab her cash and some last-minute toiletries for their ski adventure. She was excited, bubbling with the kind of infectious enthusiasm that made everyone around her smile.

​

Kristal waited at home, checking the clock and wondering what was taking her best friend so long. By 3:30 p.m., worry began creeping in. This wasn't like Sheryl—she was reliable, especially when it came to their plans together.

​

When Kristal called Sheryl's parents, James and Sandra, her concern was infectious. James, a Navy veteran who understood the importance of gut instincts, drove straight to the mall. What he found there chilled him to the bone: Sheryl's bright yellow Mazda RX-7 sitting exactly where she'd left it, sunroof open, her favorite sunglasses resting on the dashboard like she'd just stepped away for a moment.

​

But Sheryl was gone.

​

What the family didn't know was that serial killer Christopher Wilder had been prowling the mall, using his tried-and-tested routine. Posing as a fashion photographer with fake business cards and promises of modelling opportunities, he had approached at least one other young woman before setting his sights on Sheryl.

​

A friend later recalled cycling past the mall and seeing Sheryl sitting in her car, talking to a well-dressed man through her open driver's window. The man was bending down, engaging her in what appeared to be a friendly conversation. It was the last time anyone would see Sheryl.

​

Sheryl had genuine modelling aspirations—she'd done several professional shoots and her boyfriend Terry kept one of her photographs in his college dorm room. It showed her in a leotard with leg warmers and headband, channeling the Flashdance look that was all the rage. Tragically, Wilder himself was obsessed with that very movie.

​

"We were always dreaming of someone coming up and saying, 'You're found. You're Vogue material,'" Kristal told reporters later, her voice heavy with the weight of what-ifs. "I would have done it."

​

That innocent dream, shared by countless young women, became Sheryl's nightmare. For two horrific days and nights, Wilder drove her more than 500 miles across state lines—from Colorado through Arizona to Utah—terrorising and torturing her before finally taking her life near the small town of Kanab.

​

While Kristal waited for a best friend who would never come home, Sheryl was fighting for survival in the hands of a monster who had turned her dreams against her.

​

The ski trip never happened. Instead, two families were shattered, and a friendship that should have lasted a lifetime was cut brutally short by evil masquerading as opportunity.