In the spring of 1992, a killer began haunting a stretch of Midwestern America. He didn’t strike in the dead of night or in back alleys—he walked into broad daylight, into small businesses off the side of the highway, and left behind cold bodies and colder clues.
His weapon was a .22-caliber firearm. His victims were often alone, working behind store counters. He never robbed them. He never left fingerprints. He vanished every time—back onto the open road.
He became known as the I-70 Killer, a ghostly figure who appeared and disappeared like asphalt heat mirages.
And to this day, his identity remains a mystery.
The Killings Begin
Between April and May of 1992, six murders occurred along Interstate 70—spanning Indiana, Missouri, and Kansas. All of the victims were store clerks, working alone, in small shops just off the interstate.
The victims included:
- Robin Fuldauer, 26, Indianapolis, IN – Killed in a Payless shoe store
- Patricia Magers, 32, and Patricia Smith, 23, Raytown, MO – Both killed in a bridal shop
- Michael McCown, 40, Terre Haute, IN – Killed in a ceramics store (mistaken for a female employee)
- Nancy Kitzmiller, 24, St. Charles, MO – Killed in a Boot Village store
- Sarah Blessing, 37, Grain Valley, MO – Killed in a gift shop
Each murder followed a similar pattern: a lone clerk shot in the back of the head, no witnesses, no signs of struggle, and no cash taken. Police quickly ruled out robbery as a motive.
It was clear: this was a mission, not a crime of profit.
The Man in the Windbreaker
Witnesses near the crime scenes described a man with reddish hair, thin build, around 5’7” to 5’9”, often wearing a windbreaker or military-style jacket. He walked calmly into the stores, and just as calmly walked out.
He left no shell casings—indicating the use of a revolver—and seemed to vanish into thin air. Surveillance was minimal at the time, and inter-agency communication across state lines was slower and more fragmented than today.
Despite a coordinated manhunt, no one was arrested.
The killer had disappeared—back onto the highway that gave him his name.
Why These Stores?
Most of the stores were small, independently owned, with one employee working the front during slow weekday hours. They were also all located within a few miles of Interstate 70, giving the killer easy access in and out.
Several victims were young women, sparking theories that the killer had a gender-based fixation. But Michael McCown, the lone male victim, was likely mistaken for a woman—he had long hair and was working at his mother’s ceramics shop, usually staffed by her.
This added a disturbing layer: the killer wasn’t just targeting easy victims—he may have been targeting women specifically.
Possible Connections
While the main series stopped in May 1992, investigators believe the I-70 Killer may have re-emerged years later. Similar shootings occurred in Texas in 1993 and 1994, including at shoe and clothing stores. As recently as 2001 and 2017, cold case detectives have explored potential links.
In 2021, authorities released an aged composite sketch of the suspect, hoping someone might recognize the face nearly three decades later.
Still, no arrest has ever been made.
A Killer with No Name
What makes the I-70 Killer so haunting is the simplicity of his crimes—and how easily he vanished. No DNA. No security footage. No known associates.
He didn’t gloat. He didn’t leave messages. He didn’t contact the media.
He walked in. Pulled the trigger. And walked out.
He is the anti-Ted Bundy, a phantom without charm, ritual, or recognition. Just pure, calculated death.
The I-70 Killer didn’t need a city. He didn’t need a night. He needed an empty store, an open road, and a gun.
In the silence between exits and cornfields, he became a ghost—haunting not just the victims he left behind, but the law enforcement still chasing his shadow.
And until his name is known, his legend rides with every car that disappears into the haze of America’s loneliest highways.
Want to explore the shadows even deeper?
Click here for a full timeline of the I-70 investigation, or click here to read expert analysis on the unidentified suspect still at large.
For more chilling cases like this, visit SinisterArchive.com—where the legends are real.
