Victims' families feel some comfort in arrest

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THE VICTIMS: Women, many of them just girls, really, started disappearing in 1982. Some of them had histories of prostitution, and many were last seen along Pacific Highway South near Sea-Tac airport. By 1984, the number of dead or missing women had reached 49, becoming the nation's largest unsolved serial-murder case.

Gail Mathews would have turned 42 last month.

Perhaps she would have been preparing to celebrate her daughter's graduation from police academy. Or maybe she would have tried to find the son she put up for adoption.

But 18 years ago, Gail Mathews disappeared. Police think she was one of 49 women whose deaths are attributed to the Green River serial killer.

Her husband, Kenneth Mathews, yesterday recalled their life together and pondered what she might have accomplished had she lived.

"I wonder if she would have gotten over all her problems, but she never had the chance," said Mathews, 50, of Belfair, Mason County.

Like many of the families and friends of the victims attributed to the Green River killer, Mathews was overwhelmed when he learned of an arrest in the case.

Today's other main stories :: THE CASE: Ridgway awaits charges; detectives scour homes :: THE SUSPECT: Ridgway: Nice, but a bit odd :: THE INVESTIGATION: Officers recall frustrations of the hunt

Aided by new DNA-testing technology, King County sheriff's detectives Friday arrested Gary Leon Ridgway, who is suspected of killing four women. Police are investigating whether he killed others, including Mathews.

"The first thought that went through my mind is how is my daughter going to take it," said Mathews about the couple's 24-year-old, who is studying to become a police officer. "And then it's, 'Good, they finally got him.' Then it's like, 'How do I feel?' "

"I really don't know. It's been so long."

The two met in 1975 when Gail Mathews, who had grown up in Crescent City, Calif., moved to Washington to live with friends. She was just 15 and pregnant. After giving birth to a boy, she put him up for adoption.

They married in 1977, and their daughter was born later that year. They separated in 1980. The couple shared custody, but their daughter spent most of her time with her father.

"(Gail) was young and trying to make a life," Mathews said.

Gail Mathews was living on welfare, moving from one friend's house to the next, he said. The last time he saw his wife was in 1982, when she dropped off their daughter.

Gail Mathews told him then that she didn't know when she was going to be back for a visit.

"I figured she was having problems in her life, and she wanted to keep (our daughter) out of it," he said.

Gail Mathews' skeletal remains were found in September 1983 near Star Lake, east of Federal Way.

"When someone gets killed before their time, (the hurt) never closes. But somewhere along the line you accept it," Kenneth Mathews said. "I don't think I'll ever have closure, but I've accepted it, and now there's a little relief to know that he's caught — if it's him."

Other families declined yesterday to talk about their thoughts and feelings so many years after the deaths of their daughters, sisters, mothers and wives.

"It's dredging up old stuff and brings out too many things that hurt," said Harry Naon of Kent. Naon's daughter, Constance Naon, disappeared in 1983.

"Once the door opens, it becomes a flood," said the daughter of Amina Agisheff, who disappeared in 1982. Agisheff was a 36-year-old mother of three and worked as a waitress.

"Amina was a free spirit, a very trusting person," said a former boss, David Softli. She often hitchhiked to work.

"I think that's what got Amina in trouble," he said. "I said, 'You've got to be careful.' I think maybe she got into the wrong car."

Garrett Mills, brother of Opal Mills, reacted with both surprise and relief to the news that police had arrested a suspect in her 1982 slaying. He said her death "feels like yesterday."

Mills said his 16-year-old sister's violent death affected him deeply — sometimes costing him jobs when he challenged co-workers who joked about the Green River killings or the victims. He didn't know the suspect, Ridgway, but was startled to learn that he was a long-time employee of Kenworth, the same company for which his mother-in-law has worked for 34 years.

"They went to the same Kenworth picnic," Mills said.

He also remembered a ride he didn't give his sister Aug. 10, 1982. "She called me one day and asked me to pick her up. I was asleep. I said, 'Can you take the bus?' She said, 'OK,' and that was it."

He never saw her again.

Shirley Bonner, 72, was overwhelmed by the news of Ridgway's arrest and commended police for their persistence in the case. Her daughter, Debra Bonner, disappeared in 1982 when she was 23.

"I don't know if he's the one that did it or not, but I hope I live to see if he's the one," she said. About her daughter, Bonner said: "I love her with all my heart, and I sure do miss her."

Seattle Times staff reporter Mike Lindblom contributed to this report.