In October 1969, Elizabeth Kendall was 24 and fresh to Seattle from Utah, where she’d been brought up in a Mormon family. She met Theodore “Ted” Bundy, a “tall, sandy-haired” stranger at a bar and recalls being naive, shy and insecure that she was a divorced mum. Drinking made her feel “prettier, smarter, more fun”.
Conversely, Bundy, nearly 23, was confident and polished. “He was very handsome, funny, smart and seemed to fit into our lives effortlessly,” says Kendall (a pseudonym), sitting alongside her daughter Molly in a hotel in Seattle, Washington. “He was an answer to a prayer. I was smitten from the get-go.”
Molly remembers how Bundy, who helped raise her from the age of three, once read her favourite book to her, purposefully making mistakes so she’d…
