“I think I’m going to become a cop. If that doesn’t work out, I’ll go back to college and finish.”
It was a solid plan.
Four days after his twenty-second birthday, Mark VanNamee graduated from the academy. He started on patrol with OCSO. Soon he was assigned to a station four minutes from his house. Things seemed to be working out for VanNamee careerwise. He’d found his calling. Loved what he was doing.
* * *
CONTINUING HIS INVESTIGATION INTO the unexplained death of Mary Yoder after Sharon Mills called, Detective VanNamee’s interest grew. That little investigator on his shoulder was beckoning. More questions than answers arose—always a red flag in policework. Early days of a poisoning investigation can be like walking into a cave without a flashlight. You’re not sure where you’re going, but you have a sense there’s something inside that you need to see. You don’t speculate what you’ll find. You follow the path and see where you end up—most important, accepting the answers you arrive at, regardless if they fit into theories or thoughts.
After speaking to Sharon Mills, VanNamee took away that Mary’s sister had drawn her own conclusions. Namely, they were centered around Bill Yoder. These concerns needed to be explored, but so would every other possibility.
By the end of November, VanNamee, Lieutenant Nelson, pathologists Stoppacher and Clark, along with Oneida County District Attorney’s Office assistant district attorney (ADA) Laurie Lisi, met at the ME’s office to discuss Mary Yoder’s death. VanNamee had uncovered several perplexing facts requiring deeper investigation. The main purpose of what turned into a three-hour meeting was to get everyone on the same page. Flesh out all the facts in the case they knew then, especially cause and manner of death.
After that meeting, VanNamee sent preservation letters to UPS and FedEx regarding any shipments to the Yoders’ office. Had anyone ordered colchicine? Had Mary ordered the product for some reason that no one knew? Was it a chemical the office used? Since colchicine was a treatment for gout, one could argue that gout, a common, however complex, form of arthritis, can affect anyone at any time. Mary was a chiropractor. It wasn’t a stretch to think she could have prescribed colchicine to patients.
Additionally, Mary had a pop-up supplement store in the office. Perhaps she stocked colchicine for some reason? She might have been poisoning herself, without knowing it.
How was the relationship between Mary and her husband? VanNamee kept thinking. In these types of cases, the husband has to be suspect number one.
Contemplating all of this, VanNamee felt the same way the ME’s office did: Mary Yoder’s autopsy was incomplete. Both Clark and Stoppacher were unsatisfied with the answers they’d uncovered.
Three days after the meeting, on November 23, VanNamee took a call from the ME’s office.
“We have some additional information.”
“What’s up?”
“We received an anonymous letter this morning regarding Mary Yoder’s death.”
“Letter?”
“Yes. Typed. Two pages.”
VanNamee drove to the ME’s office to collect the letter, making sure the integrity of any potential DNA evidence on the letter was secured. He also ordered buccal swabs from anyone at the ME’s office who might have come in contact with the letter.
When he got back to the OCSO, Lieutenant Nelson called him into his office. “Mark, look at this.” Nelson had a piece of typed paper, inside a plastic evidence bag.
“What’s that?” VanNamee asked.
The OCSO had received the same anonymous letter—a letter making it perfectly clear who was responsible for Mary Yoder’s murder.
40
THOSE AFFECTIONATE, OUTWARD DISPLAYS of emotion found in the letters and journal entries Adam Yoder had written while dating Katie Conley in the early days of their relationship disappeared after he broke up with her in late 2014. Adam was still suffering from the effects of the relationship. Specifically, it stemmed from his conscious, consistent contact with Katie and the extreme pull of resentment he was feeling.
She’d damaged part of his soul. This became obvious when one compared Adam’s early writings about Katie with the person he realized she was after that traumatic period during the fall of 2014, when she accused him of violent rape. Adam’s individuality had taken a crushing blow since the day he met Katie. The tacit aggression between the two of them had, effectually, fueled a volatile codependency. Yet, even while in the depths of desolation, Adam fought for the relationship. He’d put himself out there repeatedly, admitting to Katie how transfixed by her he’d become.
In turn, from those letters, Katie absorbed the infatuated and enslaved nature of Adam’s love. Additionally, she filed away that whatever she did, he always came back. Katie consciously shaped, molded, and later weaponized Adam’s weaknesses against him. Adam never schemed to punish Katie in any severe, preplanned way. His negative interactions with Katie were verbal put-downs or depriving her of attention—bad behavior toward her that was primarily reactive. In reality, he was more comfortable punishing himself. Katie’s negativity was always intentional and calculated; Adam’s was overly emotional and responsive.
“I would wait for you for the rest of my life,” Adam wrote not long after meeting Katie and falling in love. He was referencing a potential split. If Katie never returned, Adam added, “I would die sad and alone.”
Continuing, he mentioned how if Katie stayed with him forever, “like I want,” or decided to leave, he would “never be with anyone else.”
Those two paragraphs, included in a one-page, double-spaced letter—in which Adam told Katie he loved her thirteen times, and apologized for not loving himself—gave Katie carte blanche over the relationship. There were other letters to follow, with more of the same pleading and self-loathing, low self-esteem. Adam poured it on, his confidence at its lowest, letting Katie know she held the keys to any chance he’d had for happiness and normalcy, simply with the touch of a phone call or text. This power she wielded was obvious when Adam had admitted, “I love you more than I love my family.”
When Adam ended the relationship that August 2014, a total shift occurred in his heart. Katie did not have that magnetic viselike grip over his emotions any longer. Katie must have realized she’d gone too far with the allegations of sexual assault and rape—and the way she prodded and poked at him. The tone Adam used in his texts afterward, along with his careful choice of words, let her know he had severed the bond, detached from her emotionally.
The dates are unclear because her iPhone notes were written and deleted (before being later recovered), but Katie made several additional notations on her iPhone Notes app after writing the August 24, 2014, sexual assault narrative. These notes could be viewed as a person’s deepest, truest thoughts. One can construe them as unashamed, uncensored feelings and ideas the writer believes no one will ever see. Some of Katie’s Notes app entries made sense on a surface level, while others would take time to decode.
For example, she wrote that “for a fact” Bill Yoder “will order [supplies for the office under] other people’s names” and “Adam has given out his password to his parents.” Concluding that three-line entry, she mentioned how Mary “wanted to keep working” while “dr. bill wanted to retire.” The questions became: What do they mean? Why would she write them? What was her motivation and purpose?
Skipping a few spaces, she asked herself a question: “Could it be grainy like Truvia?” (Truvia is a stevia-based sugar substitute, a sweetener.) “If yes,” she concluded that same thought, “office”—which was even more unusual, considering the context and what would happen to Mary in late July 2015.
Following those entries, the writing became a bit more cryptic.
“Spray adhesive.”
A few spaces.
“Discover.”
A few more spaces.
“En. 6055. 1990@g. Adamisgay. . . .”
Several more spaces.
“. . . 200. 80. 140.”
The next note was about Mary. Poetically, Katie wrote, if “love could have saved” her, Mary “would have lived forever,” followed by three heart emojis. She admitted how she could not “believe” Mary was “gone.” Dated July 20, 2015, she then wrote, “Yesterday was so sudden and unexpected.” Only, Mary wasn’t ill on July 19, 2015, a Sunday; she left work on that Monday, July 20, the same day Katie dates this entry.
She called Mary a “positive light in the world” and noted how “lucky and thankful” she was the two of them had met. There had not been a day, Katie added, in which she did not want to go to work. She talked about how everyone “appreciated” Mary’s “attention, stories, and laughter.” Mary Yoder, according to Katie, would be remembered for her “light, energy, and strength . . .”
Katie concluded those thoughts by writing how she would best honor Mary’s incredible life by emulating her “genuine, cheerful, and kind spirit . . . We love you, Dr. Mary.”
41
A FEW DAYS BEFORE Christmas, 2014, Katie walked into the Hannaford supermarket in Utica. It was several weeks after Adam had all but cut off any personal, intimate communication with her. During the previous month, Adam was standoffish and cautious about his communication and what he said. Via text and rare phone calls, they discussed his Jeep, the weather, accounting, and other trivial matters.
Katie understood she needed to work harder if she wanted to ensnare Adam back into a relationship. One might even suspect she was furious after having dropped the allegations of rape, only to have Adam turn around and call her a liar, among many other vulgar insults and insensitive names. Still, as Christmas approached, Adam remained civil. He was talking to Katie again, being mindful of keeping his distance.
In Katie’s OCSO statement withdrawing the charges, which she signed on November 18, she had said the “sexual assault complaint” she’d filed “regarding my ex-boyfriend, Adam Yoder, raping me, I no longer wish to proceed forth with criminal charges and I wish no further police action to be taken in this matter.”
That entire episode seemed to be behind them. However, an invisible threat, which could explode into an argument at any time, was present during any communication. Adam worried constantly about what the rape accusation could mean for his life if it got out.
On December 22, 2014, while inside the supermarket, Katie purchased a $150 prepaid Mastercard. The last four digits on that prepaid Mastercard were 3288. She paid cash. Took the card from the cashier. Placed it into her purse. Walked out of the supermarket.
Nine days later, on Wednesday, December 31, 2014 (a workday), at precisely 11:26 a.m., someone signed into the Mr. Adam Yoder 1990 Gmail e-mail account created at Chiropractic Family Care on the computer Katie used—the same computer that had been used near this same time to set up a Google Voice account.
“Thanks for signing up for Google Voice!” the short e-mail confirmation noted, here is “your new Google Number . . .”
The password for the account was “Adamisgay”—which Katie had also previously written in her iPhone Notes app.
An e-mail from the Mr. Adam Yoder 1990 Gmail account—claiming to be from Adam Yoder—was then sent to Rosa Vargas, who worked for a company called ArtChemicals.
Hi, Rosa:
I’m having some difficulty with the payment option. The card is Mastercard debit (the credit card number given, expiration date, and security code on back of card). Is it possible for you to run the card through manually?
Sincerely,
Adam Yoder
Rosa had reached out to the same e-mail address two days before, at 6:16 p.m.
Hi, Adam:
To start the process of your order we will need to get full payment. If you have any questions . . . please call us.
She provided a direct phone number for the customer to call.
In her late thirties, Rosa had worked at Copper Harbor Company /ArtChemicals for a little less than a year. One of her jobs was to process orders. When an order came in, Rosa made sure the correct paperwork was in place; the item(s) in stock; and, important to completing the order, each item was completely paid for before she could finish processing it to ship.
Two days before the e-mail, on January 5, 2015, at 2:21 p.m., someone using the Mr. Adam Yoder 1990 Gmail account, signing in with the Adamisgay password, ordered one gram of colchicine. It was enough to poison dozens of people to death. The amount of colchicine it takes to kill one person is akin to about several dozen individual grains of sugar or sand—that is, granules about the same size as the sugar substitute Truvia.
The cost of that order was $120.98. With shipping, the total came to $136. ArtChemicals did not supply colchicine; orders for the toxin went to an outside vendor, Spectrum, which purchased the toxin and sold it to ArtChemicals, which then sold it to their customer. ArtChemicals company slogan is: “Chemistry for the imagination.”
The company placing this particular order of colchicine, beyond the e-mail signed Adam Yoder, was Chiro Family Care. The address was 312 Oriskany Boulevard, Whitesboro, New York.
Same address as Chiropractic Family Care.
When Rosa checked the pricing from the vendor, she realized the price had gone up since the last time she’d checked (and communicated with “Adam Yoder”). The price was no longer what had been quoted in the original e-mail sent to Mr. Adam Yoder 1990 at Gmail. So Rosa called the phone number provided by “Adam Yoder” in that e-mail.
No answer. It seemed to Rosa she had been given the wrong number. So Rosa googled the business: “Chiro Family Care.”
A different phone number came up, however, but the number was connected to the same address given in the e-mailed order from “Adam Yoder.” Must have been a typo? Or a shorter version of the company name? Rosa thought.
Since the company names were so similar, Rosa never considered that they were different companies. And both, to confirm, had the same address.
Rosa called the new number.
A female answered. She didn’t give her name.
Rosa introduced herself. Explained the situation and how the price had gone up on a recent colchicine order made from Chiro Family Care. The female Rosa connected with knew exactly what Rosa was talking about.
“No problem,” the female voice said, referring to the price increase.
“I cannot process your order until it’s paid in full,” Rosa explained. “I’ll have to generate another order for the larger amount.”
“That’s fine,” the female said.
Rosa later described the person she spoke to as having “a female voice, soft, sweet, young.”
The new price was $174.20. With shipping, the total came to $189.22. Rosa told the woman she could use PayPal. Or, while they were on the phone, she could take down any credit card information right then. Rosa would do whatever was easier.
The female said she’d make the payment online.
They said good-bye and hung up.
On that same afternoon, an e-mail from Mr. Adam Yoder 1990 Gmail was sent to ArtChemicals explaining how the customer—“Adam Yoder”—was having difficulty with the credit card payment (that new amount) online.
They eventually figured out the computer glitch. The customer would need to purchase a second prepaid card, this one in the amount of $200, to cover the new price (a second invoice generated, making the original invalid).
On January 5, 2015, at 6:32 p.m., that new prepaid Visa card used to complete this new transaction with the latest pricing was purchased at Hannaford. The new card ended in the number 0072.
Two days later, an e-mail from the Mr. Adam Yoder 1990 Gmail account was sent to Rosa. It explained how the person making the order was experiencing more difficulty completing it. Even with the new price and a new Visa card covering the entire invoice, there was still an issue.
Rosa shot back an e-mail response:
Hi, Adam,
I need a letter of intent and a copy of your business license—it’s a requirement.
ArtChemicals could not sell a toxic, regulated chemical, such as colchicine, without proof that the business was approved to purchase the toxin. Additionally, they required a letter (of intent) explaining what the chemical was going to be used for. Because it was highly lethal, sellers had to cover themselves. Handing out colchicine to just anybody was not only illegal but deadly.
When Rosa went to place the order from ArtChemicals with Spectrum, she ran into both issues. The letter of intent needed to be on letterhead from the company placing the order, and the business license number needed to be included so that Spectrum and ArtChemicals could verify the business existed.
On January 8, 2015, the prepaid Visa card ending in 0072 was processed as payment for the colchicine by a business called Copper Harbor Co., Inc./ArtChemicals.
The colchicine order was now paid in full.
Rosa reached out to Mr. Adam Yoder 1990 again, requesting the letter of intent and license number in order to be able to process and ship the colchicine. Rosa explained she needed the information faxed to her at once in order to be able to ship the toxin. On Monday, January 12, 2015, the following correspondence was sent at 9:05 a.m.:
Hello, Rosa,
I am sorry for the delay. Our fax machine is being serviced. The business tax identification number is (provided). The NYS license is (provided).
The Letter of Intent
Colchicine is used for encouraging polyhaploidism in plants. That haploid induction is useful for creating genetically-stable inbred plants and allows a faster turnover rate for research of specific gene expressions.
Because colchicine is so potent and we are a small, private operation, we do not need to order large amounts nor do we need to order often.
We Thought We Knew You Page 15