You’ve probably heard stories about the "one who got away," but the case of Lewis Randolph Randy Williamson is on a whole different level. It’s the kind of story that makes you question every true crime trope you’ve ever seen on TV. For 45 years, a cold case in Riverside County sat on a shelf, gathering dust, while the man responsible lived out his life across the country.
Honestly, the wildest part isn't just that he did it. It’s how he almost made a clean break.
Back in 1979, a 17-year-old girl named Esther Gonzalez was walking to her sister’s house in Banning, California. She never made it. Her body was found dumped in the snow off Highway 243. The cause of death was brutal—rape and bludgeoning. But here is where Lewis Randolph Randy Williamson enters the frame in the most brazen way possible. He didn't just hide; he called the police.
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The Argumentative Caller
When the Riverside County Sheriff’s Station picked up the phone on February 10, 1979, they encountered a man who was, according to reports, "argumentative." He told them he’d found a body. He claimed he couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman.
Five days later, investigators tracked down that caller. It was Lewis Randolph Randy Williamson, known to most as "Randy."
In the late 70s, police work relied heavily on gut feelings and the tools of the time. They asked Williamson to take a polygraph. He said yes. He sat down, took the test, and he passed. Just like that, the lead suspect was cleared. He was basically told, "Thanks for the help," and he went about his business.
Life After Banning
While the Gonzalez family spent decades mourning and wondering, Williamson moved on. He eventually landed in Florida. He lived a full life, grew old, and died in 2014. For the detectives in California, the case was a dead end. They had a semen sample from the scene, but in the 80s and 90s, they didn't have a name to match it to.
It’s easy to think of cold cases as forgotten files, but the Riverside County Regional Cold Case Homicide Team actually kept at it. They uploaded the DNA profile to CODIS, the national database, but got nothing. No hits. No matches.
How Science Finally Caught a Dead Man
The breakthrough didn't happen because of a confession or a new witness. It happened because of Forensic Investigative Genetic Genealogy. In 2023, investigators sent evidence to Othram, a lab in Texas that specializes in these "impossible" cases.
They built a genealogical profile that pointed right back to the man who had called the police nearly half a century earlier.
But there was a problem: Lewis Randolph Randy Williamson was dead. You can't put a dead man on a polygraph (not that they work perfectly anyway), and you certainly can't arrest him. Luckily, the Broward County Sheriff's Office in Florida had something crucial. During Williamson’s autopsy in 2014, a blood sample had been collected.
They sent that vial of blood to the California Department of Justice. The match was perfect.
What This Tells Us About Polygraphs
If you’re wondering how he passed that lie detector test in 1979, you’re not alone. Experts have been shouting for years that polygraphs measure physiological stress—not "the truth."
If a person is a sociopath, or if they’re just incredibly calm under pressure, they can beat the machine. Williamson was argumentative with the police, which suggests he wasn't exactly intimidated by authority. He walked out of that station a free man because a machine said his heart rate didn't spike.
It’s a sobering reminder of why these tests aren't usually admissible in court today.
The Aftermath and Seeking More Victims
The Riverside County District Attorney’s office isn't just closing the book on Esther Gonzalez. They are now looking into whether Lewis Randolph Randy Williamson had other victims. When a killer is that bold—calling the police to report their own crime—it’s rarely their first or last time.
Investigators are currently asking anyone who knew Williamson in the 70s or 80s, whether in California or Florida, to come forward. They want to know where he worked, who he hung out with, and if there are other families out there still waiting for answers.
Take Action: What to do if you have information
- If you lived in the Banning or Beaumont area in the late 70s and remember Randy Williamson, contact the Cold Case Unit.
- You can reach the Riverside County Regional Cold Case Homicide Team at (951) 955-2777.
- Emails can be sent directly to ColdCaseUnit@RivcoDA.org.
- Look through old photos or yearbooks from that era; sometimes a small detail about a car or a specific hang-out spot can help link unsolved cases.
This discovery doesn't bring Esther back, but it does strip away the "innocent" label Williamson wore for 45 years. It proves that even if you can trick a machine, you can't outrun your own biology forever.