You Can Run but You Can't Hide (35 page)

babies. I hated myself for being so harsh, but, like any rational par-

ent, I wanted to protect my daughter. I finally sent her and Abbie

plane tickets to come visit me in Hawaii. The second I saw my

granddaughter, I knew I had made a terrible mistake. I prayed to

God for forgiveness. The Lord spoke to me and said, “You are not

the giver of life.” He was right. It was not my decision to make.

Only God knows His eternal plan.

To me, there is nothing that separates someone like Luster—who

used his money, power, and influence to lure women into his twisted

world—from the rat who likewise manipulated, used, and raped my

baby girl. Luster seduced innocent victims, drugged them, and video-

taped himself raping them. The Ventura County DA offered to cut a

deal by which Luster would serve fifteen years. He turned it down. He

instructed his lawyers to go to trial, assuming, of course, that he

would beat the rap. His arrogance was astounding. But from what I

could tell, it looked as though Andrew Luster was going down.

I closed my eyes and pretended to go back to sleep. Beth was

wide awake. I could tell she was plotting her strategy. We were only

twenty-five minutes into our flight. My head was filling up fast with

thoughts of running after this rich, spoiled fugitive. I knew damn

well that if Luster ran, he would flee the country. This would be-

come an international manhunt. In a way, it was the last thing I

wanted to hear about. I was far too old for this stuff. But how could

I let this opportunity pass me by?

I spent the rest of our five-and-a-half-hour flight internally bat-

tling my need to prove to the world that I am the best bounty hunter

who ever lived. I knew I could find this asshole. I saw him in my

head. This was my ultimate date with destiny. I knew it wouldn’t be

easy. I surely knew it wouldn’t come cheap—financially or emotion-

ally. That was definitely a concern to me. I was just getting back on

my feet after losing my bail bonds business in Hawaii a few years

earlier. I never wanted to be that broke again. Also, Beth and I were

finally connecting as a couple. After more than a decade of on-

again, off-again dating, we were finally together. For the first time

in my life, there wasn’t anyone else diverting my attention.

I knew damn well that entering the hunt meant placing 100 per-

cent of my focus on finding Luster and not on my family. It meant

Th e B i g O n e

213

eating, breathing, and sleeping Luster. There would be no room for

anyone else. It also meant personally bankrolling the search, which

I knew could go into hundreds of thousands of dollars, depending

on where Luster would run—if he ran at all, of course.

By the time our plane landed in L.A., Luster
was
officially on the

run. He failed to show up for his court date. He had removed his

court-ordered ankle monitor on January 3 and hadn’t been heard

from since. Before we claimed our luggage, he was declared a fugi-

tive and a warrant was issued for his arrest.

Beth and I went straight to our hotel. She got on her laptop and

began researching the case. We even called our lawyer, Les Abell, to

tell him we were thinking of going after Luster.

Abell was very enthusiastic. “Hmm. That’s very interesting. One

of my clients is a wonderful writer and a Max Factor historian. Her

name is Samantha Hart. She wrote a book about Max Factor.

Maybe she could help you.”

What a stroke of luck! I could hardly believe it. Beth and I spoke

to Samantha later that night. She knew everything about the Luster

family. She told us that Andrew was the offspring of two snakes.

His mother, Elizabeth, was the adopted granddaughter of Max

Factor. The Factors essentially renounced Elizabeth because she

wasn’t a true descendant of the family. She was cast out as a black

sheep. Andrew was equally viewed as an outsider. The Factors never

much cared about the Lusters, because they weren’t carrying on the

family name. They were not Factors, they were Lusters. From what

I could tell, there was a
big
difference between the two.

When we hung up, we knew that Luster would be a challenge.

Everything she said made it clear we were up against a smart, rich,

educated, cunning, and well-connected fugitive. This piqued our in-

terest more than ever. It had been years since we had hunted some-

one like Luster—perhaps not since the Bernstein brothers.

C h a p t e r T h i r t y - n i n e

ENTERING THE

HUNT FOR LUSTER

Beth and I
were in L.A. to talk about doing our own reality

show, and Boris thought it was a good idea to set up a meeting with

Chris McQuarrie to talk about it. We sat in the bar at the Four Sea-

sons Hotel, going over our vision with Chris, picking his brain as to

what he thought we should do. Chris and I had become friends. I

felt I could really trust him to guide us in the right direction.

“Hey, did you see this guy Andrew Luster jumped bail?”

I wasn’t expecting Chris to change subjects on me. I was unusu-

ally flustered. I said, “Who?”

An awkward silence fell over the table. It was like that old televi-

sion commercial when someone mentions that his broker is

E. F. Hutton and the entire restaurant stops to listen. More impor-

tant, I could feel daggers flying out from Beth’s eyes toward me, be-

cause here we were, out pitching a television show on bounty

hunting, and for a second, I failed to recognize the name of one of

the most wanted men alive. Then it came back to me that this was

the guy Beth was talking about on our flight the day before. I re-

gained my composure, acting like I was only joking around, and

said, “Beth and I were just discussing that punk on our flight yester-

day. We’re thinking about joining the hunt.”

McQuarrie made a point of saying how awesome it would be

if I could find Luster. We all knew I was the right guy for the job.

E n t e r i n g t h e H u n t f o r L u s t e r

215

I could see Beth’s wheels turning faster than a Ferrari burning rub-

ber. Thirty minutes later, Beth was in our hotel room working the

phones. She plugged in her laptop and began to book me on as

many news shows as she could to get the word out. I hadn’t done a

lot of national news media. It was all new to me. But that didn’t

matter, because I was the right guy to talk to about catching fugi-

tives. The first interview I did was with Matt Bean from Court TV

for their Web site www.crime.com. I had written a few articles on

past captures for the site, so they knew me pretty well. Matt mostly

wanted to know my thoughts on Luster’s bail-jumping.

The next day, Cole Thompson, a producer from Court TV,

called and asked if I would be a guest on
Catherine Crier Live.
The

producer said, since I was in Los Angeles and the show was live

from New York, it would have to be a phoner—a live telephone in-

terview. They didn’t have time to get me to a studio or in front of

the cameras. Beth wasn’t pleased with that. She knows my presence

makes for good, compelling television.

Beth challenged the producer’s decision. “Excuse me, but are

you familiar with what Dog looks like?” She quickly uploaded

some pictures so the producer could get an idea of who I was. Ten

minutes later, I was in a car on my way to the studio.

On the way, Beth was giddy with excitement. “This is it, Duane.

This is the guy the Lord has been waiting for. This is the big case. I

just know it.” Beth spoke with such conviction. She had been trying

to get me on TV for years, and now everyone wanted me. It was all

happening so fast.

Catherine Crier asked me some tough questions on the air, but

the one that stood out was when she dismissively asked, “So how

would
you
catch Andrew Luster?”

I looked deadpan into the camera, my eyes hidden behind my

trademark black Oakleys so Luster couldn’t see my eyes, and said,

“Run, Luster, run.”

“Obviously, Dog. But if you could say something to Andrew

Luster right now, what would it be?” Crier seemed doubtful I was

up to the task.

“You better run and hide, ’cause
the Dog
is coming after you.”

The next day I was asked to appear on
Geraldo
. Each of the

shows wanted my opinion and expertise on where someone like

216

Yo u Ca n R u n , b u t Yo u Ca n ’ t H i d e

Luster might run. He could be anywhere, and the truth is, he was

probably long gone, which made the idea of chasing him less palat-

able. And yet I wanted to get this son of bitch. I wanted his ass. I

wanted to be the guy who brought Luster to justice. Bounty hunters

all over the world were talking bad about me, saying I didn’t stand a

chance. Those bastards. I began hating Andrew Luster. As my anger

grew, so did my desire to join the hunt.

After the Geraldo Rivera interview, I was met in the hallway

of the studio by the husband of one of Luster’s victims. Now, I’ve

been meeting victims for thirty years. I generally enjoy getting to

know the folks I am fighting for. For whatever reason, the victim’s

lawyer didn’t want her to meet me face-to-face, but her husband

could.

“Dog, please. You won’t understand this, but our whole life

depends on you.”

But, of course, I did understand. Painfully so, though I never let

on how I personally knew the depth of his family’s pain.

“If you catch Luster, promise me you’ll drive him by our house.

I’d like to see him for five minutes. You don’t understand. My wife

has been terrified by every little sound.” She thought it was Luster

coming back to get her. I could see the torment on his face. The

man’s wife was pregnant with twins. During the trial, she miscar-

ried one of the babies.

I was used to playing referee, but my heart and soul understood

that this man wanted revenge. Not just for his wife but for all of Lus-

ter’s victims. Lord knows, I truly understood his anger and vengeful

desire. I shook my head in agreement, letting him know I heard his

plea. If I decided to join the hunt, I promised I would oblige.

After the
Geraldo
appearance, all of the big news shows came

calling. Even though I hadn’t officially announced I was in the hunt,

people were beginning to expect that I would be the guy who was

going to get that rapist.

The next day, I was preparing to do
The Rita Cosby Show
for

Fox. I bumped into John Ritter in the lobby of the Four Seasons

Hotel. At the time, his wife was the head of the Los Angeles Rape

Crisis Center. He told me to get Luster and their prayers would be

with me. Terry Bradshaw did the same. These two guys inspired me

that the time had come to enter the chase.

E n t e r i n g t h e H u n t f o r L u s t e r

217

As I got ready for the interview, Beth and I tried to figure out

what I would wear so Luster would know I was coming.

“How about this for the interview, honey?” I stepped out wear-

ing my leather vest and no shirt.

“You look hot, Big Daddy. Absolutely!” She loved the way I looked.

I just wanted Luster to know I was no joke. I knew he was watching.

We showed up to the set and caused quite a stir. People were

whispering, “Can he go on the air looking like that?” and “Are we

sure this guy is for real?”

Hell, I didn’t care. I was there to tell Luster I was coming for

him. I wasn’t trying to make friends with the newsroom. The Lord

was calling me to find Andrew Luster. The pull was so great, so

strong, I knew not to question His plan.

I didn’t know Rita prior to this interview. I wasn’t sure what to

expect. I also wasn’t sure why she chose to have me on her show. But

we connected from the moment we went live. This was the best in-

terview I had done so far. In fact, it went so well that Rita invited

me to stay for the next segment to debate Roger Diamond, the at-

torney defending Andrew Luster.

The segment started with Diamond trying to establish what

a good guy Luster was. He pointed out that Luster had no previous

record or arrests and painted him as a classy, upstanding citizen.

I said, “You’d say anything for five hundred bucks an hour.”

Diamond was rattled by my accusation. “Excuse me? Who are

you? No one even knows who you are.”

“I am Dog the Bounty Hunter. My job is to catch fugitives on

the run.”

“Job? What job? Who do you work for?”

“The state of California,” I said. “When I bring Luster in, he’s

worth fifteen percent of his bond.”

“You sound more like a bounty hunter seeking the spotlight

than you do a bona fide member of law enforcement. What are your

credentials?”

“If you want to know about who I am, check out my Web site,

www.dogthebountyhunter.com.” I could see Beth off camera pump-

ing her fist in the air in victory. Just like in my old boxing days, I took