Death on Mt Pleasant

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Death on Mt Pleasant Page 5

by Steve McMillen


  Terri is speechless. After a few seconds, she answers, “Sure, what would you like to know?”

  “How good a look did you get of the vehicle that passed you on the road that night?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I was talking to Samantha on the phone, and it was dark outside and raining. The black limo was moving rather quickly so I slowed down and pulled off to the edge of the road. I just got a glance as it flashed by.”

  I decide to plant some doubt in her mind. “And are you sure it was a black limo and not a large black SUV?”

  “Well, you know, now that I think about it, maybe it could have been a black SUV. I’m not sure. Does that make a difference?”

  “Let me ask you this, when was the last time you saw a large black limo?”

  She laughs. “Probably the last time we were in Myrtle Beach.” “And when was the last time you saw a large black SUV?”

  “Well, I see them every day!” she exclaims.

  Samantha interrupts. “Mom, we were talking about Myrtle Beach and the time you got up on the Queen’s Float and did the wave thing. Then you said you had to hang up and call 911, that there had been an accident.”

  Terri puts her hand up to her mouth. “Oh, my God, it could have been a large black SUV.”

  “Let me ask you this Terri. Have you ever seen a black SUV on Allen Road before?”

  She thinks for a minute. “Sure, several times. Why do you ask?”

  “Just gathering information.” I thank Terri and ask her if I could call her if I have any further questions. She agrees and gives me her cell phone number. I turn to leave, but before I do, I say to both of them, “I would really appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anybody about our discussion here today.”

  “Of course, no problem. Good luck with your investigation,” Terri replies and Samantha waves and nods her head in agreement.

  Chapter 10: First Clues

  Around 2:00 in the afternoon, Donna calls Mickke D. “I was right about the information on the stories Sissy was working on at the paper. I found some scribbled notes on her desk calendar. She was working on a story about oil and gas fracking in Fairfield County and she was investigating the possible closing or selling of Anchor Hocking’s Distribution Center. She was also looking into the addiction to pain pills, which has surfaced lately as an issue in this area.”

  He thinks for a minute. “Is there any way you can get me her notes on those stories?”

  “Well, I’m sitting at her desk right now. Let me look around and I’ll call you back.” She carefully and quietly opens all of Sissy’s desk drawers; however, she doesn’t find anything that resembles notes on any of those cases. As she is fumbling around, she accidently spills a box of paper clips. In the bottom of the small box, she notices a thumb drive which to her seems an odd place to keep one. She looks around, and since no one is paying much attention to what she is doing, she slips the thumb drive in her pocket.

  As she is leaving the office, she passes an assistant editor who was working with Sissy and she asks, “Say Kevin, what happened to Sissy’s computer? I was going to see if I could piece together some of her stories for you?”

  He pauses and then shrugs. “I’m not sure; some security person came by with a letter and took it away.”

  “What type of security person?”

  With a sarcastic look on his face, he answers, “I don’t know, he had a badge, and a letter signed by some judge.”

  “Did you get a name?”

  “No, it didn’t seem that important at the time. It was the day after they found Sissy’s body.”

  “Did they ever bring the computer back?”

  As he is walking away, he responds, “I have no idea.”

  Kevin made up the story about a security person picking up Sissy’s computer. As soon as Donna leaves the building, he gets on his cell phone and calls a cell phone number that no one ever answers. He leaves a message knowing someone eventually will call him back from an unknown number. He gets his call back in about five minutes. He tells the caller that someone is trying to find out what happened to Sissy’s computer. The caller wants to know who was asking questions. Kevin replies, “Donna Crist.”

  Kevin, an addict, was told by the unknown caller on the day Sissy was found dead to gather up Sissy’s computer and deliver it to a small county park between Pickerington and Canal Winchester. There was a bag with a container of pills waiting for him. He had driven to the park, picked up the bag, and left the computer without thinking twice. Now, Kevin wishes he had never said anything to Donna. He should have just said he had no idea where her computer was. Now if she goes to the boss and starts asking questions, he is going to be in hot water.

  Kevin’s caller now has three situations to deal with. Kevin is getting jumpy, and anytime you deal with an addict you are dealing with uncertainty. The second problem is Donna Crist. Why is she so interested in Sissy’s computer? Does it have anything to do with the third problem, the PI in town who is also asking questions?

  Donna leaves the paper and once she gets in her car, calls Mickke D. “It’s Dee Dee, I just found a thumb drive in the bottom of a paper clip box in Sissy’s desk. I’m going to plug it in to see what’s on it.”

  He quickly replies, “No, someone could be watching you. Meet me in the bar at Shaw’s and bring the thumb drive. I’ll be at the same table and I’ll bring my laptop.”

  “Okay, and by the way. Someone came into the paper on Tuesday, the day after they found Sissy’s body, and took her computer. One of Sissy’s assistant editors told me he had a badge, and a paper signed by some judge.”

  “And no one questioned that at the paper?”

  “Well, I guess not. Do you want me to ask around and see what I can find out?”

  “No, not right now. Just come on over to Shaw’s.”

  Chapter 11: The Thumb Drive

  Before I go down to the bar to meet Donna, I call big Steve. I need him to look into something else for me. “Hey detective, I need another favor.” Before he can say no, I continue, “Could you check to see if any other crimes have been committed where a cell phone was not found and maybe go back at least five years?”

  Again, the dropped call syndrome. Finally, he replies, “So I guess you want me to go back to around the time of David’s accident?”

  “Well, the time period has to begin and end sometime. That date is as good as any other. Oh, and by the way, did you find out who was driving the pick-up truck this morning?”

  He actually sounds calm to me. “Yes, I did. His name is Dale DuPont. He’s 39 and he lives in Basil. He is a divorced engineering consultant with no record, not even a parking ticket.”

  “That’s strange; he seemed to be high on something. I thought for sure he would have a drug arrest record. So, do you have an address for him?” I pleadingly ask.

  “And if I give it to you, are you going to bang on his door in the middle of the night and stick your gun up his nose until he breaks down and tells you who hired him?”

  “That’s a good idea Steve, I hadn’t thought about that. Do you think it would work?” After a pause and no answer from him, I continue, “You know I can go on the internet and find his address.”

  Big Steve gives me Dale’s address and tells me not to do anything stupid. He reminds me that if Dale is a druggie, he will shoot first and ask questions later. And since I wasn’t a cop, he could claim I was trying to break into his home. Just as I am about to hang up, I ask one more question, “By the way, have you found anyone at Standing Oaks Estates who owns a black Chevy SUV?”

  “Haven’t got that info yet. Should I bill you by the hour or on a per diem basis?”

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll take you and Sharon out to dinner some night. How would that be?”

  He replies, “I’ll let you know,” and hangs up.

  I leave my room and venture down to the lobby of Shaw’s with my laptop strapped over my shoulder and secured in my Lands End Carry-All. I have
my .45 stuck in one of the inside pockets of the bag. The end with my gun is not zipped shut, so I can quickly get to it. Instead of going immediately into the bar area, I go out the side door and take a slow walk around the outside of the building. I’m looking for anything or anyone that looks out of place. I don’t notice anything or anyone, which puts me in a quandary.

  As I venture into the bar area, there’s a show-card stating that The American Songbook Trio will be appearing tonight. Sounds like fun. I may have to come back for that. I go inside and just as I take a seat at the table, Donna walks in. She sits down and hands me the thumb drive.

  I look around for Michelle, but she is nowhere to be found. A different but very attractive waitress with dark hair and a sexy short, black skirt shows up and says her name is Tina. I ask if Michelle is working and she says no, today is her day off. We both order a Diet Coke and as I watch Tina walk away, Donna remarks, “Do you know her also?”

  I ignore her comment, boot up my laptop, and put in the thumb drive. Several pages of notes appear on my screen. She mentions names, dates, phone numbers, and what transpired at the meetings. Her notes are very concise and easy to read. I look at Donna and ask, “Do you mind if I keep this for awhile?”

  “Of course not, I doubt if anyone knows that it exists and no one saw me take it.”

  “Well, whatever you do, don’t mention the fact that it does exist to anyone, and don’t ask anyone about Sissy’s computer. And, by the way, who is the guy in charge at the paper? I would like to speak with him.”

  In a rather defiant tone of voice, she replies, “The woman in charge is Cathy S. Central. I’ll be happy to set up a meeting for you, and don’t worry, my lips are sealed.”

  Sheepishly, I reply, “Sorry, just took for granted it was a man. Yes, please set up a meeting as soon as possible. Thank you.”

  I walk Donna out to her car and return to my room. Once I get there, I start making notes from Sissy’s notes. She has provided me with a list of several people to contact tomorrow. Just as I am almost finished with my note taking, my phone rings. It’s big Steve. “I just got the info about black SUVs at Standing Oaks Estates. There are five vehicles matching that description registered with people who live there. Do you want their names? And of course, this information did not come from me.”

  “Yes, I do, and I will not reveal my sources to anyone. Give them to me.” I write down the names and then ask, “By the way, detective, did you ever find Sissy’s computer?”

  Silence for several seconds. “Why would I be looking for her computer? Remember, this was an accident, not a murder investigation.”

  “Just covering all bases.” I would love to ask about the missing cell phone but I don’t want to press my luck. “Thank you, detective. Be sure and let me know about dinner.”

  He hangs up without answering. I quickly grab my notes from Sissy’s thumb drive to see if any of the names match up with the names big Steve just gave me.

  Chapter 12: Cathy S. Central

  Donna calls me at 8:30 the next morning. “You have an appointment with Cathy at 10:00 this morning. Will that work for you?”

  “That’s great, Dee Dee. Thank you, I’ll be there.”

  I arrive at The Falcon Express around 9:45 and Cathy comes out to meet me about five minutes later. She is a strikingly attractive woman, I’m guessing in her mid-forties with short blond hair and sporting a very professional dark pants suit. “You must be Mickke D. Donna said you wanted to talk to me about Sissy’s death?”

  “Yes. Her brother Jake thinks it was a murder and that’s why he called me. Do you mind answering a few questions?”

  “Not at all, but all I know is what we reported in the paper.”

  “Let me ask you this. Did Sissy ever get any death threats or harassing phone calls about any of her stories?”

  “Death threats, I don’t think so, but every good reporter gets those harassing phone calls. You should hear some of the ones I get.”

  “Did she take any of them seriously?”

  “Not that I know of. She never came to me with any complaints.”

  “What about her husband’s death? Was she still investigating that?”

  She hesitates for a few seconds and then replies, “That was a tragedy. I don’t think she ever got over David’s death. She always believed that there was more to the accident than what was reported. Why did you bring up David’s accident?”

  “No reason.” I quickly change the subject. “Do you know who came and got Sissy’s computer the day after she was found dead?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. She usually takes it home with her over the weekend. Who told you someone took it?”

  “Donna said she thought it was missing. Maybe it’s at her condo.”

  I thank Cathy and ask her if it’s okay to call her if I have any more questions. She gives me her business card and tells me to call anytime.

  As soon as I get to my vehicle, I call big Steve. “Did your people ever search Sissy’s condo?”

  “Not really, we looked around and discovered she was not there and that was about it. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, it seems as if her computer is missing. Was it at the condo?”

  “I don’t remember seeing it, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. Why are you looking for her computer?”

  “Well, if her cell phone is missing and her computer is missing, both of which contain her personal information, that to me would raise a huge red flag. Somebody doesn’t want certain information on those devices made public.”

  “Okay, I’ll send some uniforms over there to take a look around.”

  “Thanks Steve. Call me when they’re finished.”

  I think it’s time to have a chat with the person who told Donna that someone picked up Sissy’s computer the day after they discovered her body. I call and ask her for a description and the name of the assistant editor. I also ask her if she knows what time he normally goes to lunch.

  I park on Chestnut Street just down from the newspaper and wait. At about 12:05, Kevin walks out of the front entrance. I watch him approach in my side view mirror and get out just as he nears the rear of my vehicle.

  “Hey, Kevin, do you mind if I ask you some questions? I’m investigating the death of Sissy Adams.”

  I could see a funny look and irritation in his eyes. His brain was trying to come up with an answer, but the thoughts could not reach his vocal cords. He was at a loss for an answer. Finally, he replies, “Why do you want to talk to me? Are you with the police?”

  “No, I’m a private investigator hired to find out what really happened to her.” I pull out my wallet, flash my PI ID card, and reach into my shirt pocket and hand him a business card.

  He reluctantly accepts my card, looks at it, and then at me. “Sorry, Mr. MacCandlish, I don’t know anything except what we print in the paper.” He starts to walk away.

  I block his path and say, “What about the guy who came and got her computer the day after she was found dead? Did you know him? Can you describe him? Did he show you any ID?”

  He hurriedly answers, “He showed me what looked like an official letter and I gave it to him. Now you’ll have to excuse me, I’m meeting someone for lunch.”

  He brushes past me. I let him go but call out, “Thanks Kevin, I’ll talk to you later when you have more time.”

  Chapter 13: Robert Dane

  Robert Dane’s name was on Sissy’s list as a contact person with Wilmont Oil & Gas Company, located in Columbus. He is the vice president in charge of leasing and acquisitions with the company. His job is to oversee all of the company’s landmen, the people who go out and acquire oil and gas leases from the landowners and all rights of way and other acquisitions necessary to complete the drilling of a well and putting it on line. He also serves as the public relations contact for the company.

  Robert’s secretary Marian knocks and then opens his office door and goes in, closing the door behind her. “There is a
Mr. MacCandlish here and he would like to speak with you.” She hands a business card to him. “I told him you had a busy schedule and that he should make an appointment.” Robert gazes at the card, hesitates, and then motions for Marian to show him in.

  He greets his guest at the door, shakes his hand, and says, “Sit down, Mr. MacCandlish. I don’t get many visits from private investigators. Your card says you are from North Myrtle Beach. I’ve played a lot of golf down there, or at least I used to before the drilling boom started again. Now I hardly have time to play here. What can I help you with?”

  His guest replies, “Thanks for seeing me, Mr. Dane. I’m investigating the death of a newspaper reporter in Lancaster. You may have seen the story in the paper. Her name was Sissy Adams. She fell off of Mt. Pleasant and was killed.”

  His face shows honest concern. “No, I didn’t. Oh my goodness, I did a phone interview with her when we first began drilling in Fairfield County. What a shame.”

  “Yes, it was. Her brother hired me to look into her death. He thinks she was murdered.”

  He listens for any change in Mr. Dane’s voice or any looks of nervousness on his part after he throws out the word murder. He sees no change. He is very calm and collected. “And what does any of this have to do with me, Mr. MacCandlish?”

  “Oh, probably nothing, Mr. Dane, I’m just following up with all of the people who Sissy was doing a story on. What was Sissy discussing with you?”

  “Well, she was concerned about fracking and that the process would contaminate the underground aquifer which Lancaster and the county utilize for drinking water or that contaminated water would leak from the holding ponds before it was picked up and processed. I assured her that the odds of that happening were astronomical.”

  “And what would happen if that aquifer became contaminated from fracking?”

  “If that happened, our operations would be shut down, so we are very careful to make sure that doesn’t happen. We hire a company to test the water to make sure it is clear of any chemicals that might be attributed to us.”

 

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