It could be anybody. That's what's so scary.
In 2007, three violent crimes unfolded in the parking structures of a Florida shopping mall, leaving one woman and a mother and her young daughter dead, and another mother and toddler traumatized but alive. Nearly two decades later, the crimes remain unsolved — a rare and haunting gap in justice that a former FBI agent who worked the case still carries with him. Now, as a television documentary attempts to link the killings to a Swedish serial killer, that agent is pushing back, insisting the truth lies closer to home, in the darker corridors of human desire and control.
- Three crimes, one exit, one suspected perpetrator — and nearly twenty years of silence from investigators who have run out of leads.
- A television documentary linking the murders to a Swedish serial killer has reignited public speculation, but the FBI agent who worked the case calls it fabrication with no factual grounding.
- The killer left almost no physical evidence — no DNA, no usable footage, only a handful of zip ties and blacked-out goggles connecting the crimes.
- Former agent John MacVeigh believes the perpetrator was escalating, refining his method with each attack based on what resistance he encountered.
- The case remains open, the identity unknown, and MacVeigh's haunting summary lingers: 'It could be anybody — that's what's so scary.'
On an ordinary afternoon in March 2007, Randi Gorenberg walked to her car at Boca Raton's Town Center Mall and was never seen alive again. Shot in the face and abandoned miles away, she left behind no witnesses, no motive, and no answers. Five months later, a woman loading her two-year-old son into her car discovered a man already waiting in the back seat with a gun. He forced her to an ATM, took what little cash she had, then released her — bound with zip ties and blinded by blacked-out goggles — in a nearby parking lot. She ran. The investigation went quiet.
That December, Nancy Bochicchio and her seven-year-old daughter Joey left the same mall through the same exit. They never made it to dinner. Around midnight, a security guard found their SUV idling outside Sears, both mother and daughter shot once in the head, bound with duct tape, handcuffs, and the same style of goggles. Evidence suggested Nancy had broken her restraints — perhaps trying to reach her daughter. Their bodies went undiscovered for nearly nine hours while shoppers parked beside them, assuming they were asleep.
John MacVeigh, the former FBI agent who worked the case, is certain one person committed all three crimes. He sees a grim progression: a killer who adapted after each encounter, learning from resistance, choosing his next victim accordingly. When a documentary suggested Swedish serial killer Peter Mangs was responsible, MacVeigh was unsparing in his rejection — calling the production fabrication, inaccurate, and driven by assumption rather than evidence.
His own theory centers on deviant desire and the need for control. Gorenberg resisted; she died. The mother with the toddler complied and was released. Nancy and Joey, he believes, were chosen because an older child would be easier to manage. The investigation turned up almost nothing — no DNA, no usable surveillance footage, and hundreds of leads that dissolved into dead ends. MacVeigh retired without solving it, and the weight of that failure has never left him. The killer's identity remains unknown.
In March 2007, Randi Gorenberg stopped by the Town Center Mall in Boca Raton to pick up a John Legend CD. Surveillance footage captured her walking back to her Mercedes SUV around 1:12 in the afternoon. Within forty minutes, she was dead—shot in the face and abandoned five miles away behind a Home Depot in West Delray Beach. The vehicle was found empty, and Gorenberg's body showed signs of a struggle. Investigators had no clear motive, no witnesses, and no answers about where she had been taken or why she had been targeted.
Five months later, in August, a woman and her two-year-old son left Saks Fifth Avenue and walked to their car in the parking garage. As she opened the driver's side door, a man was already sitting in the back seat beside her child, holding a gun. He forced her to drive to an ATM and withdraw five hundred dollars—a demand she laughed off, showing him she only had two hundred. After taking what she could, he ordered her back into the car. She pleaded with him as he drove, asking about nearby churches. They passed one, but he seemed unable to locate it. The child cried throughout. At some point, the man showed unexpected concern, asking if the boy needed water or a bottle. He bound the woman with zip ties, covered her eyes with blacked-out swim goggles, and placed toy handcuffs on her wrists. Then, inexplicably, he released her in a Bloomingdale's parking lot, warning her not to call police and telling her he knew where she lived. She freed herself and ran to the Saks valet stand. A sketch was released. The investigation went silent.
In December 2007, just before Christmas, Nancy Bochicchio and her seven-year-old daughter Joey left the same mall through the same exit as the earlier victims. They never arrived at a planned dinner. Around midnight, a security guard noticed their SUV idling in the merchandise pickup zone outside Sears. Inside, both mother and daughter were found dead—each shot once in the head, bound with duct tape, plastic ties, handcuffs, and goggles. Nancy had made a five-hundred-dollar ATM withdrawal earlier that day, but there was no clear video of who was with her. Investigators believe the pair were placed in the back seat within thirty minutes of leaving the mall. Evidence suggested Nancy had broken her handcuffs at some point, possibly trying to free her daughter. The bodies remained undiscovered for nearly nine hours. People parked nearby reported seeing two figures in the back seat but assumed they were sleeping after shopping.
For nearly two decades, these three crimes—one murder, one abduction with release, one double homicide—have haunted the community. The only thread connecting them: each victim exited through the same mall doorway in broad daylight. Two attacks involved blacked-out goggles and zip ties. John MacVeigh, a former FBI agent who worked the case before retirement, is convinced all three were committed by the same person. "Clearly it was somebody who did all three," he told the Daily Mail. "It was a progression. Nothing happened before and nothing happened after."
Public speculation eventually centered on Peter Mangs, a Swedish serial killer, fueled by a three-part television documentary exploring possible links. MacVeigh dismisses this theory entirely. "The TV show that came out about the guy from Sweden was total fabrication," he said. "I was appalled that they even let that thing air, because everything on there, none of it was accurate." He called the private investigator featured in the series and the entire production "full of shit," describing it as assumption and innuendo masquerading as investigation.
Instead, MacVeigh believes the perpetrator was driven by deviant sexual motivation or a desire for control. He theorizes a progression: the killer took Gorenberg, she resisted, he didn't get what he wanted. Next, he targeted someone with a young child he could control—but the toddler cried and whined, complicating things. Finally, he chose a victim with an older child who wouldn't resist as much. "That's what I think he did," MacVeigh said. When asked why Jane Doe and her son were released unharmed, he offered a single answer: "Because she didn't resist the situation."
The investigation has yielded almost nothing. There is no DNA evidence—the killer either didn't sweat, didn't touch anything, or was covered up. An unidentified item found in Nancy's car was traced to its manufacturer; over three hundred were sold. Detectives spent two and a half years going door to door trying to locate every one. They found nothing. The parking lot cameras at Sears only recorded when investigators manually hit a button, so there is no footage of what happened. MacVeigh remains haunted by the case. "It's the one case in my career I never solved, and it's upsetting, because I still see images of them," he said. "It's just the belief of how we didn't catch somebody or how he got away with it—it's mind boggling." To this day, the killer's identity remains unknown, and the motive remains a mystery. As MacVeigh put it: "It could be anybody. That's what's so scary."
Citações Notáveis
It was a progression. Nothing happened before and nothing happened after.— John MacVeigh, former FBI agent
The TV show that came out about the guy from Sweden was total fabrication. Everything on there, none of it was accurate.— John MacVeigh, former FBI agent
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why do you think the Swedish killer theory took hold so strongly in the public mind?
Because it gave people a narrative. A known killer, a documented pattern, something concrete to point to. The alternative—that it could be anyone, that he just vanished—is terrifying in a different way. It's easier to believe in a famous monster than to accept that an ordinary person did this and got away.
MacVeigh talks about a progression. How confident is he that it's actually the same person?
Very. The details are too specific—same exit, same time of day, the same tools. But progression isn't proof. It's a theory built on pattern. The problem is, without catching him, you can't know if you're seeing a real escalation or just coincidence in a wealthy mall where predators might naturally hunt.
What strikes you most about Jane Doe's case?
That he let her go. He had her, he had her child, he had control. Then something shifted. Maybe the child's crying genuinely bothered him. Maybe he saw her as human in a way he didn't see the others. Or maybe he was just scared. We don't know, and that uncertainty is part of what makes it so unsettling.
Do you think he's still alive?
MacVeigh doesn't say. But he's asking why it stopped. If the killer died or went to prison for something else, that would explain the silence. If he's alive and free, the question becomes: why did he stop? Did something change in him, or did he just get smarter about hiding?
What does it mean that they found almost nothing—no DNA, no clear footage, nothing?
It means he was either incredibly careful or incredibly lucky. Or both. It also means the investigation hit a wall early and never broke through. Two and a half years chasing three hundred items from a store. That's desperation, not progress.