by Dave Balcom
“It was then that Julie stepped in with a clear head and asked if we could sit in on the interview, and wouldn’t you know, Lawton turned out to be a human and agreed just as long as we agreed on what could be reported in the Record. He didn’t want the perps getting a tip if she identified them.’’
“Them?” I asked.
“Oh, he said they were pretty sure there were two people, both big people, who attacked Patty, and she didn’t just take it. The doctor told him that from the look of the knuckles of her right hand, she might have gotten a good lick in before they overpowered her.
“I’m not surprised. Patty grew up with four brothers. She told me once that in her neighborhood there were eleven kids, ten were boys. She didn’t know she was a girl until she went to kindergarten.
“But the doctor wasn’t about to let us have time with her. He gave us this speech (and her voice dropped into some false baritone for the doctor): ‘This is not like the movies. People don’t take that kind of assault and then wake up all perky before the credits roll. We don’t know yet how much real damage may have been done. I know the detective needs to talk to her, but I want it kept short – no more than ten minutes. Rest of today, just family; her sleep is more important than anything. Understand me?”’
I had to answer. “You know the doctor’s right, and he only has Patty’s best interest at heart, right?”
“I do, but damn, I need to touch her, be in the know, you know?”
I didn’t mention my own frustrations from being on the outside while others chased stories, “Have any idea what she found that would make someone want it bad enough to hurt her?”
“No, but hopefully Lawton will.”
34
Lawton surprised me with a call just minutes after Jan had hung up. “Mr. Stanton, I’m calling because I think Jan Coldwell will kill me if I don’t,” the investigator said. “She demanded I give you an update on my interview with Miss Patterson, and based on my conversations with Sergeant Fish, I figured you deserved to be in the know.”
“I appreciate it. What could she tell you?”
“She’s not very coherent. She didn’t see who they were, but said one was real tall, which given her size, if she thought that, I would be thinking six-six or taller; the other, she said, was big and mean, did most of the hitting. She didn’t know how many times they kicked her, but they stomped her hands and feet.
“She said they weren’t asking her any questions, it wasn’t like that. It was just like they were pissed off.
“She kept referring to the County Clerk and the ‘lessons of civil rights’ whatever that meant. I’m hoping to talk with her again this evening. The nurse said she’s really coming along fast. I’ll call you if I have anything.”
We traded phone numbers, and I told him how much I appreciated his involvement. He seemed friendly, and we hung up.
Minutes later, while she was in the lobby waiting for Julie and Ken, Jan called me, and related what she had learned so far, and told me they would be driving back to Mineral Valley right away.
“Then what?”
“Tomorrow, one of us goes to the Kalkaska clerk and starts retracing Patty’s steps while the other of us stays back and puts the paper together. I guess I’ll go on the road; Julie is more used to Patty’s regular beat. She can write the lead story on Patty, and she can use Ellen for the routine stuff. Rhonda can make sure the production work is complete. We’ll have a paper.”
I let her talk as I did my own processing. “Tell you what, Jan, if you don’t mind, let me take a stab at tracing Patty’s steps from the phone and Internet. I’ll explain what happened and that I’m filling in for your staff in Patty’s absence.”
“You think they’ll read you the details of her research on the phone? I don’t think so. It’s all public record, but they’re not required to help us read it.”
“No, but I can retrace what she was doing, and who she saw, for the story on the attack. I can probably gather enough information that when you send somebody up there on Thursday or Friday, they’ll know exactly what they’re looking for so they won’t have to re-invent the wheel.”
I changed my tone, and hoped it didn’t sound like a kid wheedling another cookie after lunch, “I want to help, if I can. This is something I can do from out here.”
“Go ahead, then. Let me know what you find.”
“I’ll have an email waiting for you when at your office, and if I have a story, I’ll file it by six p.m. your time, will that work?”
“Go get ’em, Tiger.”
35
Looking up the Kalkaska County website was a lucky first step. Somebody had put some thought into why anyone would want to visit such a site, and answered the questions and needs in a logical manner.
I went looking for the County Clerk and found her listed under Elected Officials, with a phone number and everything.
“I’d like to speak to Mrs. Dupree, if I might,” I said, pronouncing it in a French style.
The clerk at the other end asked my name, and I explained that it wouldn’t mean anything to Mrs. Dupree anyway. “Just tell her it’s a call about Patty Patterson of the Record.”
“Oh, I heard about her; that was just awful. One minute please.”
“Sharon Dupree.”
“Mrs. Dupree, my name’s Jim Stanton, and I’m doing some reporting for the Record today, trying to help out with a story they’re running Thursday about the attack on Patty Patterson of their staff, did you see Patty on Monday?”
“No, I didn’t. I spent some time with her last Friday, however, and I’m sure if she was here on Monday, she was following up on that.”
“Really? What was the nature of her request?”
“She was researching the plans for the Penny Point development down there on the Copper. She wanted to see what had been paid for each parcel and their exact sizes. I sent her to the Register of Deeds.
“She was concerned that she wouldn’t know how to identify the properties and she’d spend years searching. I told her that the best thing she could do was locate the property on the plat book in Equalization, and write down the property’s ID number, and with that she could look it up at the Register’s office.”
“So that’s what she did on Friday?”
“It was pretty late in the day, so I’m guessing if she came up here on Monday, she probably didn’t finish on Friday. Patty is quick and we all like working with her, but her best thing is that she’s very thorough. When you start talking about Michigan’s property tax laws and processes, you need to be thorough, and Patty was.”
“Is, you mean?”
“Of course, I’m sorry, but I heard she was in a coma.”
“As of a couple of hours ago she is out of intensive care and talking to folks. They’re pretty positive she’s going to recover.”
“That’s great news, thanks. You want me to connect you to the Register’s office?”
So she did. “Register of Deeds, Deputy Davis speaking.”
There was an air of civil professionalism in her answer to the phone. I told her who I was and what I was doing, just as I had with the Clerk’s office.
“Yes, she was here Monday, all day. Arrived at nine, broke for lunch when we closed and was waiting for us at one. She left here when we closed at five. I told all this to the police yesterday.”
“I appreciate that, but her notes and lap top were taken during the assault, and I was wondering if you or any other staff were talking with her and would have any clue to what she was researching.”
“Staff? You’re not from the Record, or you’d know that this is Kalkaska County. This office is just the Register and me; I’m the staff since everything is on computer.” She was obviously one of those put-upon servants, the self-styled martyrs that seem to crop up in most offices. Then her tone changed. “Who are you really?”
“I’m really working for the Record. I’m a retired journalist who is a friend of the newspaper and I volunteered to do thi
s on the phone from my home in Oregon so they could focus on getting the paper out. They’re all pretty shaken up.”
“I don’t doubt it. Well, no, we didn’t discuss her work. Everything’s on computer. She had the property ID numbers, and she just sat at the terminal here in the office all day, digging.”
She went on to explain that every property in the county had an ID number. If you put that number into the computer, you could access the legal description of the property, and from there you could call up the deed and all the history of that property.
“You have an ID number? I can’t do much of this, but if you have one, I’ll put it in and then I think you’d understand what she could find.”
“I don’t know any of the numbers. What kinds of detail would there be?”
“Well, in addition to the size of the property from the description, you would be able to see every time it had changed hands, and if you wanted to, you could then look up that transfer and see the stamps, which allow you to calculate the transaction price.”
“Is this the kind of stuff somebody does to make sure there’s a clean title when you’re buying property?”
“Exactly. They log in to our system, and check out the history so they can assure you that the person selling you the property, and all the people before that for that matter, had the right to sell.”
She went on to explain that in addition to ownership, the title insurance investigation made sure that there were no deed restrictions that might not be known.
“Deed restrictions?”
“You know, maybe there’s an easement for a highway across the backyard of your property or sometimes there’ll be an easement from a utility company and they’re planning on eventually putting a transformer or substation in your front yard… you’d want to know about that before you bought, right?”
“I see; how long would it take to research a deed and stuff once you had that ID number?”
“That would depend on how many owners the property has had, and what kinds of restrictions there might be, you know, like if the mineral rights had been sold, re-sold or optioned or anything that prohibited a certain use… there’s all kinds of things that need to be read and understood.”
“But on an average, if Patty was there all day Monday, how many pieces of property would she have examined, a hundred? Fifty? More? Less?”
“Oh, she was doing a lot of note taking and typing and then reading and then typing. I’d bet she didn’t do more than twenty pieces. It’s tedious work. I know, I spend a lot of my life updating when people die, sell and buy… it’s pretty boring.”
I took a couple more quotes from Deputy Register Davis about Patty and her work, and yes, her first name’s Betty, and, yes, she’s heard all the jokes. I thanked her, and hung up.
I called the Equalization Department.
“Equalization, Carolyn. May I help you?”
I went through my introduction again, and answered her questions about Patty. The clerk had already spread the word that Patty was making it, and Carolyn knew I might be calling.
“She spent about two hours Friday getting a whole bunch of ID numbers from the Plat Map. She was surprised she couldn’t give me the names of the owners and I’d give her the numbers, but it doesn’t work that way… the numbers don’t change with new owners unless the properties are consolidated into one plat and we then abandon one of the numbers. That doesn’t happen all that often.”
“So she had to look the properties up on a map?”
“Yes, and they’re hard to read at first, but once you’re used to it, it goes faster.”
“Is that map digital? A PDF perhaps?”
“Yes, all of our real estate information is computerized.”
“Could I access your plat map via the Internet?”
“You could if you had the software. It’s proprietary. All the land use agencies and developers and even police and fire have it, but it’s expensive.”
“So, someone would have to come to the courthouse to see the map, find the property and then have the number.”
“Pretty much. If you have a street address, I could look it up for you, but I don’t have time to do that long list she had on Friday. I saw it, and it took more than one whole screen on her lap top.”
“At this time, I don’t have any address or number, but I might find one and call you back if that would work for you.”
“You’ll have to hurry; we close in about an hour.” I was amazed to see it was after 1 my time. I had something to report, and I had to start writing.
I double checked her full name and took a gratuitous quote about how all the staff in the courthouse appreciated Patty’s professional work, and signed off.
While my notes were printing, I opened an email window and reported to Jan, apologizing for how long it took.
She responded immediately: “Need 500-750 words by 6!”
I wrote back and said I could write twice that much, but her readers probably needed half that much to understand what she was doing. I added I had some decent quotes from the folks at the courthouse.
She asked if I was going to file or talk about it. Deadline pressure, I thought, makes a tiger out of a pussy cat.
36
The phone rang about midnight, and it was Jan. I had been dozing on the porch. I staggered into the kitchen for the phone so it rang several times before I found it.
“I’m sorry it’s so late, but I wanted to let you know I received and read all your stuff, and how grateful everyone here is that you helped.
“They voted you a full share of pizza; it’s sitting in the break room, waiting for you.”
Pizza on production night at a weekly newspaper is about as traditional and classic as it comes.
“I was glad to help, how did it fit in with other stuff you had?”
“We found some notes from Friday on Patty’s desk, and I think they’re the property IDs you wrote about. I didn’t find anything else on that part of the story, but I did find a name that’s new to me, Ray Means?
“You met him at Schaeffer’s with me. You must have forgotten. He’s the tall thin guy who was doing the introductions. He’s from my past with Mickey.”
“What’s his connection to Next Cool Place?”
“I don’t know.” I explained that I’d seen him with Willis Crocker in Portland, and it appeared he was providing security for the lawyer. I told her how I had tracked them to Salem, but then the walls went up.
“Was he with Crocker when you met him in Pendleton?”
“No, that was Ron White. He is the son of Mickey’s first wife Kathy by way of her second husband Gary. Was there a phone number attached to Means’ name on her note?”
“Nope, just the name and a question mark.”
“If you send me those ID numbers, I have a sympathetic ear in the Kalkaska Court House who’ll run one for me. And, I have a gal in the Register’s office who’ll run the property description for me if I need her to.”
“I was going to send Ellen McGee up there to do that today, you know, pick up where Patty left off.”
I sat silent until she wondered, “What, Jim? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that cute Ellen might want to be very careful in looking up legal descriptions and the like after what happened to Patty.”
“You really think there’s a connection?”
“I don’t think you can afford to ignore the possibility. You don’t have a big enough staff,” I deadpanned.
“Not funny. I’ll e-mail you the numbers and you can start the ball rolling on the phone, and then let me know how you think we should handle it here.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
“We’re on the last leg for sending pages. I’ll send your email in the next hour or so.”
“I’ll be in bed, but I start way early too; as soon as the courthouse opens.”
“Good night,” she said softly, that change in her voice that meant the publisher had hung up and t
he woman was back on the line.
“Talk to you soon.”
I went outside and set up some early warning devices, missing Punch like crazy. The big, bristle faced German wirehaired pointer had become so much a part of my life that this trip outside had been a nightly staple for him, not me, but now I was taking the short walk even though he wasn’t there.
My heart was breaking at his absence, there’s no other explanation.
As I practiced, the basic exercises of t’ai chi ch’uan that I had been taught so long ago, I focused on breathing. It formed the fundamental of center, to control one’s breathing was to control one’s emotions, to focus on the now.
When I had buttoned up the cottage, I found sleep as I did most nights – quickly and dreamless, balanced in my breathing.
I woke as the first light of dawn was working its way into the fir forests, the sun wouldn’t be visible on this side of the Blues for hours, but I was ready to go.
By six I was at my computer, checking my email from Jan. She had attached the numbers in another document. I opened it, and just sat staring at the column of numbers, down the length of the first page and half way into a second.
There was no note on the email. I printed the PDF attachment and went for coffee.
On the way down the hall I came to a complete stop, a moment of shocking realization.
I pulled the first page off the printer. The first number was 40035-337-005-02. I reached into the top drawer of my desk and pulled out Mickey’s letter that he claimed contained “his number,” 400035-396-006-01.
I compared the two and the rationale fit nicely. Mickey had become all about property, why wouldn’t “his number” be a property ID?
But there were differences. I forgot about my coffee, and called the Equalization office in Kalkaska. I asked for Carolyn. On the phone I reminded her of my call from the day before. “You back on the job?” she asked.
“Afraid so. They’ve asked me to follow up on some stuff, you have a minute?”