On a steamy August afternoon in South Florida, the mall, like malls anywhere, can be a

place to escape, and everyday Christmas of possibilities in the upscale shop windows.

For some people, it's an air-conditioned mainstream where they can let their brains slip out

of gear for a while.

A lot of mothers go there with their kids to walk around and get them out of the house.

Call her Jane, as in Jane Doe, is speaking in disguise because of the terrible things

that happened to her one day after she and her young son had a nothing special wander

through the big mall near Boca Raton, North of Miami.

While she was shopping, spraying on a sample of perfume, buying a fashion baseball cap,

someone was out in the parking lot, waiting, watching, on the hunt for vulnerable women.

He must have locked on Jane, as she and her son exited the mall at Nordstrom about

one o'clock that day.

She was doing the usual mother's juggling act as she popped the hatch of her black SUV.

I put my son in first, I strapped him in his car seat.

He's in back?

Yeah, in the back.

Then I go to the back of the truck and I put the stroller in, shut the gate, and start

walking to the front.

And that's when I hear my son, and he's like, mama, mama.

I could tell he's worried or scared.

That's when I look in to see if he's okay and there's a guy sitting there.

A guy in a floppy hat, wraparound shades, sitting in her SUV right next to her two-year-old.

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