It started in Albuquerque, New Mexico, back in 1998. Peggy Klinke was 28, a vibrant woman with dreams of medical school, when she met a man named Patrick Kennedy. At first, honestly, he seemed like a catch. He was attentive. He was charming. But pretty quickly, that charm started to feel a lot like a cage. Her family noticed it during a New Year’s visit—he was just a little too "nice," a little too overbearing. He wanted her all to himself.
Most people think of stalking as something that happens to celebrities or people in high-profile jobs. It’s not. It’s often the person who sat across from you at dinner.
By March 2002, Peggy had enough. She cut ties. She thought she was ending a relationship, but she was actually starting a three-year nightmare. The moment she left, Patrick Kennedy didn't just move on; he became a shadow that wouldn't go away. He called her cell phone hundreds of times. He sat outside her gym. He followed her to work. When she didn't respond? He got mean. He posted vulgar flyers with her face and phone number all over Albuquerque.
The Escalation Nobody Saw Coming
Stalking is rarely static. It grows.
In June 2002, Peggy’s family gathered in Florida for her brother’s wedding. She brought her new boyfriend, Mark Sparks. Patrick Kennedy didn't take that well. He actually called the brother to apologize for "missing the wedding," then hopped on a plane to Ohio just to spray-paint "P.K. is a whore" on Peggy's mother's garage. Think about that level of commitment to hate. He then flew back to Albuquerque and set Mark's house on fire.
Peggy did everything right. She went to the police. She filed stalking charges. She got a restraining order. She documented every single call and every weird car she saw on her street.
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"Will it take a bullet to my head for you to do something about this?"
That’s what Peggy asked the District Attorney. It’s a haunting question because, basically, the system didn't have a better answer for her at the time.
Running for Her Life in Turlock
Peggy eventually realized that Albuquerque wasn't safe anymore. She vanished—or tried to. She moved to Turlock, California, changed her number, didn't list her address, and told her new neighbors and coworkers exactly what was going on. She was living in a state of hyper-vigilance.
For months, it worked. She had some peace.
But Patrick Kennedy was obsessed. He wasn't just some guy hanging around; he was a hunter. He hired a private investigator to track her down. It’s one of the most infuriating parts of this story—that a professional could be used to bypass all the safety measures Peggy had put in place. Kennedy eventually found her neighborhood in California, posed as a private investigator himself, and tricked a delivery driver into pointing out exactly which apartment was hers.
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January 18, 2003. Six days before the stalking trial was supposed to happen back in New Mexico.
He caught her as she was leaving her house early in the morning. He duct-taped her hands, choked her, and beat her with his gun. Peggy, being the fighter she was, managed to break free. She ran to a neighbor's place and managed to call 911. But he followed her. He smashed through a glass door and then through a bedroom door where she was hiding.
With the police surrounding the building, Kennedy held her at gunpoint. He told her to give messages to her family. "Tell them I'm sorry," he reportedly said. Then he shot Peggy in the back of the neck and killed himself.
Why This Case Still Matters in 2026
The reason we still talk about Patrick Kennedy and Peggy Klinke isn't just because of the tragedy; it's because of what happened next. Peggy’s sister, Debbie Riddle, didn't let that be the end of the story.
She turned her grief into a massive legislative push. Within six months of the murder, she was working with Congress. Her work led to the creation of National Stalking Awareness Month (January). She also helped push for laws like California’s AB 978 and SB 2267, which aimed to close the loopholes that allowed stalkers to use private investigators to find their victims.
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Honestly, the case exposed how broken the system was. Restraining orders are just paper if the police don't have the tools to enforce them or if the "pre-trial" period is long enough for a stalker to finish what they started.
Actionable Lessons for Personal Safety
If you or someone you know is dealing with a situation that feels like it’s escalating, Peggy’s story offers some grim but vital takeaways:
- Documentation is everything: Peggy kept a log of every interaction. While it didn't save her, it provided the evidence needed to build a case that would later change national law.
- The "Vanish" Strategy is flawed: Even with unlisted numbers and moving states, technology and PIs make it easy to find people. Modern safety plans now often include digital footprint scrubbing and legal protections for "voters' records" and "mail forwarding" programs like Safe at Home.
- Trust your gut on the "Nice Guy": Overbearing behavior and a need for total control early in a relationship are the biggest red flags.
- Involve your circle: Peggy told her neighbors and coworkers. Because they knew, there were witnesses and people ready to call the cops immediately.
The tragic intersection of Patrick Kennedy and Peggy Klinke changed how the American legal system views stalking. It moved from being seen as a "nuisance" to being recognized as a high-risk precursor to homicide.
To better protect yourself or a loved one, you should look into your state’s specific "Address Confidentiality Program" (ACP), which provides a legal substitute address for victims of stalking and domestic violence to prevent public records from revealing their true location.