Death on Mt Pleasant
Page 8
Kevin is a little suspicious, but any time he can get free pills, he’s all in. He has severe headaches and the doctors have no idea what is causing them so they kept prescribing medicine. Now Kevin can’t go without them.
He leaves the newspaper at 11:30 and drives up 33 to Allen Road, takes Allen to 256, and slows down as he passes the location where Sissy’s husband David was killed. He continues through Pickerington and arrives at the park around 12:10. There are only two other cars in the parking lot, which seems a little strange to him since it is lunch time and quite a few people come here to have lunch and a short walk before returning to the office.
He exits his vehicle and walks toward the trash can, which sits next to the path leading to the small lake. He looks around and sees no one. He takes off the lid and sees the plastic bag, which is tied at the top. He takes out the bag and replaces the lid. He looks around again and still sees no one. He returns to his car and opens the plastic bag. Inside is a small brown paper bag, which is stapled shut. He opens the brown bag and finds a non-labeled bottle of pills. It looks like there could be probably twenty-five or thirty white pills inside. Under the container, he sees a note. He takes the piece of paper out of the bag and reads it. “Thank you. It would be very nice if Donna Crist has an accident. There are more pills where these came from.”
Kevin doesn’t know what to think. He just sits there and stares out the windshield. Does the guy want him to kill her or just hurt her? He immediately calls the non-answering number and waits, but his call is not returned. He is confused, but he does know one thing for sure. He is not a killer. However, he knows he is addicted to pain pills. He slowly leaves the park and returns to the newspaper without having lunch. He pops a couple of pills instead and notices a strange taste left in his mouth. He figures they are probably okay, or else why would the caller ask him to hurt Donna? The rest of his afternoon is pretty much a blur.
The anonymous caller hopes that Kevin takes care of Donna Crist in a hurry. The pain pills are coated with brine from the leaves of the rhubarb plant. The stalks of the plant are delicious and make great pies, but the leaves are poisonous and are cut off, left on the soil to decompose and nourish future crops. He is slowly killing himself every time he pops a pill.
Chapter 20: Close Encounter
TC finishes looking over some of the maps at the Georgetown Library without much success. He plans to come back tomorrow morning and start over again. This whole thing with the treasure map and a possible treasure discovery is invigorating to him. He doesn’t need the money, but the idea of finding buried treasure from the early 1700s is a driving force. He can’t decide whether he wants to continue looking around Georgetown for the treasure or to pursue the possible salvage job in the Caribbean. He will probably wait until Mickke D returns from Ohio to make the final decision. Of course, if he thinks he has discovered the location of the buried treasure, the decision will be easy.
Stephanie Langchester arrives at the Georgetown Library as TC exits the building. She spots him immediately and ducks down in the front seat of her rented car. If she had arrived five minutes sooner, she would have passed him on the steps to the library. Would he have recognized her? Maybe, maybe not, but she is very happy the chance meeting did not occur.
She slowly raises her head and peers over the top of the steering wheel as TC saunters by her, not thirty feet away. She watches as he enters his vehicle and slowly leaves the library parking lot. She looks at her watch and waits for ten minutes before exiting her car. She wants to be sure he does not return.
She quickly crosses the lot and proceeds into the library. She goes directly to the front desk and asks in her best Southern drawl. “Are there are any old maps anywhere in the library that may show old coastlines?”
The woman looks at her strangely and says, “That’s funny, a man just left not too long ago who was also looking for old coastline maps. We have some old maps from the mid 1600s to the late 1700s back on the far left corner of the library. There is a table there that you may use to look at them.”
Stephanie thanks the woman and starts to turn away. She stops and turns back to the woman and sort of whispers, “I’m doing some research for a documentary film company, so I would appreciate it if y’all did not mention my visit to anyone. We’re trying to keep it on the quiet side until we’re ready to start shooting. Maybe we could find a place for y’all in our film. Do y’all have a card?”
The woman looks pleasantly flustered. “Oh, I won’t say a word to anyone. Here’s my card. I would be more than happy to appear in your film.”
Stephanie gazes at the card. “Thanks Penne, I will keep y’all in mind.” She puts her finger to her lips and turns back to continue her research in the rear of the library. She spends about an hour looking over maps before the library closes and does not find anything which might be beneficial of her pursuit of the buried treasure. She will need to come back at another time. Before leaving, she asks Penne, “I will need to return later on, do y’all know if that gentleman who was looking at the same maps will be returning?”
Penne whispers, “Yes, he told me he will be coming back tomorrow morning.”
Stephanie thinks for a few seconds and then replies, “Penne, do y’all think if I call ahead of time and ask if he is using the maps, y’all could let me know?”
Again, she whispers, “Oh, no problem. I’ll be happy to help you anyway I can.”
Stephanie thanks Penne and leaves the library. She is staying in Charleston, which is about an hour away. She needs to make a stop at the marina where she made the deal to sell TC’s boat before she calls it a night.
She had made the arrangement with some guys at this out-of-the-way marina to purchase TC’s boat for $150,000 in cash, no questions asked. The marina is a small, obscure marina on the edge of Mt. Pleasant, which is located just north of Charleston. She had never met the party she spoke with and they did not know her. She wanted to nose around and see if they knew anything about the death of the three girls.
The person she had spoken to and made the deal with was Danny Dykes. He had told her the money would be waiting and as long as the boat was as nice as she had described, there would be no problems. The girls had received their money and the marina provided a rental boat to take them on to Key West.
The problem had occurred several days later when the FBI came to the marina, confiscated the boat, and arrested Danny and his crew. TC had placed a GPS transponder in the boat so it could be traced with a GPS tracking system. He reclaimed the boat, and Danny was out $150,000, which, by the way, he had borrowed from some rather unscrupulous underworld characters with ties to the mob. He had also spent around $7,500 of his own money to repaint the boat, change its appearance, and change the name. His plan had been to sell the boat to a Saudi businessman for $450,000 and pocket a cool $295,000.
In court, Danny and his crew had pleaded ignorance; they had no idea the boat was stolen, and they were let out on bail. Danny and his crew were not happy campers. They went to work trying to find out where the three girls were and to recoup their losses.
Chapter 21: Mt. Pleasant
I’ve been in Lancaster for four days now and so far, a rent-a-cop stopped me, Dale DuPont stalked me, and three guys with baseball bats attacked me. In addition, I am no closer to figuring out who killed Sissy than I was the day I arrived. I have considered going to Dale DuPont’s house in Basil and having an up close and personal talk with him, but I really don’t believe he knows much.
Therefore, since it’s a beautiful day, I opt to go back up on Mt. Pleasant and do some exploring for a few hours. Maybe the climb will clear my head and give me a new perspective on this case. In addition, maybe, just maybe, someone new will follow me and I’ll have a new person of interest to question. I pay close attention on the way over, but do not notice anyone following me.
I guess my jogging and walking around downtown Lancaster has done me some good because it is much easier to get to the top this time,
although I do make one rest stop along the way. Once I arrive at the top, there are several families with cameras and other singles just milling about or standing by the railing looking out at the sights. As I approach, no one seems the least bit interested in the fact that I am there and pays no attention to me. No one looks familiar. The hairs on the back of my neck are still where they should be so I decide to go off and explore in another direction.
I start down the path toward Devil’s Kitchen, but I notice what looks like a little-used path heading the other direction, away from Devil’s Kitchen. It may just be an animal trail of some kind, but what the hell; I slowly begin to follow it. It is not an easy walk and it is about twenty feet below the rim of the mountain on a narrow ledge. After about ten minutes and as I turn a sharp corner, the path suddenly and abruptly ends into a pile of rocks and trees. Now most people would have stopped there and turned around, and maybe I would have in my teenage years, but my Special Forces training kicks in. I remember being told several times that just because the trail ends, doesn’t mean it has stopped. We were always taught to look on the other side to see if the trail picks up again. That will not be easy. There is about a 200-foot drop-off to one side and a 20-foot-high wall of rocks and trees on the other side.
There are two trees on this small path blocking my way. Their trunks are growing close together but about ten feet up they split, and it looks to me like enough room for me to squeeze through and get over to the other side.
Just as I am preparing to shimmy up between the two trees, I hear a twig snap. The hair on the back of my neck does its thing, next comes fear, then the brain’s will to survive. I guess I should have paid better attention on my drive over here. As I slowly turn around with .45 in hand, I quickly determine that someone did indeed follow me.
Chapter 22: Revenge #1
Stephanie pulls into the marina parking lot, puts on her wig and glasses, and picks up her cane. She slowly meanders into the marina office. A middle-aged man with shorts, a beach shirt, and boat shoes asks if he can help her with anything. “Well, I hope so” she answers. “I saw an ad online not too long ago that said you had a 46-foot Carver for sale. Is it still available?”
He gives her an odd look. “Sorry lady, never had a boat like that here. You might try on down the road in Charleston. I’ve got a few smaller boats here for sale but nothing that big.”
“So does that mean you never had a boat like that or you just don’t have one now?” she says with authority in her voice.
“Look lady, I told you I don’t have a Carver that size here. Now is there anything else I can help you with?”
“So does that mean you have a smaller Carver for sale?” Stephanie taunts him.
“Lady, I have work to do, so why don’t you just look around. If you see anything that looks interesting, find me. My name is Danny.”
“Really, would that be Danny Dykes? I think you were the guy I spoke to on the phone about a 46-foot Carver not too long ago.”
All of a sudden, the man’s face goes from tanned, to ashen, to red. He gives Stephanie a sinister look and reaches under the counter. However, before he can get whatever it is he is reaching for, Stephanie pulls a .25 caliber pistol from her pocket and points it at his nose. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Danny.”
She motions for him to come out from behind the counter. She takes a plastic tie from her purse and secures his hands behind his back. She walks over to the door and turns the open sign to closed, pulls down all of the blinds, and locks the door. She tells him to sit down. “Mr. Dykes, you and I are going to have a come-to-Jesus talk. I’m going to ask some questions and if you don’t answer, I guess you already know what’s going to happen next.”
Chapter 23: Papa Boo’s
The pressure on my trigger finger is increasing as I turn and confront my unknown guest. “Jake, what the hell are you doing? I could have shot you. Are you nuts?”
Jake had raised his hands very quickly and now was slowly lowering them. “Sorry, man. I came up here to spend some time thinking about Sissy and as I reached the top I saw you heading down this path.”
“Well, why didn’t you call out?”
“Chill out Mickke D, I said I was sorry. What are you doing over in this area anyway?”
I take a deep breath and place my weapon back into the small of my back. “I just wanted to clear my head and do a little exploring.”
“Don’t tell me you’re still looking for that cave where the Indians and settlers stored all their provisions?”
“Of course not.” I quickly change the subject. “Why aren’t you working today?”
“Not much going on so I took the day off. What are you planning to do other than to try and find that cave?”
I give him a cold stare. “I was thinking about going back up to Buckeye Lake to check out some of the marinas to see if I can figure out who owns that antique Criss-Craft anchored out from The Winery. Do you want to go along?”
“Well, I guess. Do you have a bullet-proof vest I can wear?”
“Very funny. Let’s go. You can buy lunch.”
We stop at three different marinas on the lake and no one seems to know who owns the boat, although everyone said they had seen the boat on the lake. I leave each of them a business card and ask them to call me if someone comes in with the boat.
We decide to stop at Papa Boo’s for lunch. We are seated out near the lake and as we sit down, I turn and look out to where the boats are docked and I motion for Jake to look. The boat I have been searching for is moored at Papa Boo’s boat dock.
Jake whispers, “Holy shit, Mickke D, do I need that vest now?”
“Take it easy, Jake; don’t get your shorts in a knot. No one is going to try anything in a busy outdoor restaurant like this.”
He smiles and says softly, “Does that include you?”
“Yes, that includes me. Now let’s order lunch and we’ll just keep an eye on the boat.”
“Yea right. If I eat anything, I’ll probably throw up.”
As I scan the lunch bunch for any unsavory characters, I say, “Stay calm. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”
I do notice a table on the far side of the eating area with two guys and a woman. The woman looks familiar, but until she stands up, I cannot be sure.
We order lunch along with a beer and enjoy the scenery and the surroundings. Fifteen minutes later, the three people at the suspect table get up and move toward the boat dock. The two men are unfamiliar to me. I grab my cell phone and snap several pictures as they are leaving. I try to take a good look at each of them just in case I run into them again. The woman almost looks like Ginny Ridlinger from Anchor Hocking. They all board that beautiful old antique boat. I notice the name on the back of the boat as it is leaving, “Black Gold.” I quickly repeat the registration number on the boat and have Jake write it down. I get on my phone and call big Steve. “Say detective, I have more info on that boat I have been searching for. The registration number is OH56675IO and the name is “Black Gold.” Can you see if you can find out who owns it?”
“I’ll see what I can find out. Where are you?”
“Jake and I are having lunch at Papa Boo’s.”
Detective Reynolds does not answer. He just hangs up.
Chapter 24: The Interrogation
Stephanie walks over to the cooler and pulls out a Diet Pepsi in a plastic bottle. She takes off the cap, takes a drink, and pours the contents on the floor. “Oh, sorry Danny, that’s going to be a sticky mess to clean up. Do you see this empty bottle?”
Danny does not answer, just nods his head. “Well Danny, this empty bottle is a poor man’s silencer. Did you know that, Danny? All one needs to do is place this gun in the opening of the bottle, wrap some tape around it so it fits tight, and then fire. Hardly a sound. Would you like me to show you how it works? Let me see if I can find some tape in here somewhere.”
With fear in his eyes and hesitation in his voice, Danny stammers, �
��Look lady, what do you want? Tell me what you want and I‘ll answer your damn questions.”
“That’s great, Danny. We are going to get along just fine. However, just in case you change your mind, I’m still going to find some tape and be ready to shoot you in the kneecap. Then I’ll just get another bottle of Pepsi and we’ll start over again with the other kneecap. Have you ever been shot in the kneecap Danny?”
“Damn it; tell me what you want to know.” Danny is sweating profusely.
Stephanie walks back over to the cooler, gets out another bottle of Diet Pepsi, takes off the cap, takes a drink and pours the rest on the floor. She then looks around the office and finds some duct tape. “This will work great.” She places the gun barrel in the bottle and wraps the duct tape around it until she has a tight seal.
Next, she walks behind the counter, reaches down and pulls out a .9mm Glock. “Whoa, nice gun. Maybe I’ll use this one on your other kneecap.”
She sits down across from him and begins. “Well, Danny. I sent you a beautiful 46-foot Carver along with three lovely women. Those three ladies are now dead and I want to know what happened to them.” She pauses and then starts again. “Danny, this is where you answer my question or I put a bullet in your kneecap.”
Danny has been seriously considering his options and has decided the best thing he can do is truthfully answer this crazy woman’s questions. He honestly believes she will kill him if he doesn’t. However, before doing so he will make a bid to see if he can get a better deal. “Look lady, if I answer your questions, will you not kill me and at least give me a thirty-minute start before you call the authorities?”