God forbid.
The jury deliberated nine hours before finding Keith Wachtel guilty. It’s a relatively short time for a case of this magnitude, but the question that comes to mind in a reading of the transcript is, what took them so long?
The key pieces of physical evidence were Cody’s hair, which was found in Keith’s house and car, and the blanket fibers, found only in the car. Stanley Butler, his now-deceased attorney, argued that he had previous contact with the dog and that explained the hair. He had no good explanation for the blanket fibers but still disputed its significance.
But it didn’t fly with the jury. When Keith and Jill broke up, he moved out and got a new car and house, so Cody had never been in either. The amount of dog hair was just too great for simple transference, and the time since he had last been with Cody weighed heavily against that argument as well.
Also contributing greatly to Keith’s conviction was the testimony of the nanny, Teresa Mullins. She had met Keith a couple of times, and though the abductor wore some kind of mask, she was able to successfully identify his voice and eyes. She also said that the car the abductor drove was identical to Keith’s, and had even gotten a partial license plate identification, which matched.
Even though the prosecution doesn’t have to demonstrate motive, in this case, there was plenty to go around. Keith and Jill had what could be called a double breakup, both somewhat contentious, though they were months apart. Not only did their personal relationship end somewhat acrimoniously, but Keith was also later fired from his job in Jill’s company.
The firing was particularly ill-timed. It was while Jill was on the desperate, but ultimately successful, fund-raising mission. Using the money she brought in enabled the company to go from what had been a struggling start-up to a thriving enterprise. All this happened right after Keith left, making Jill a fortune and leaving Keith in no position to profit from it.
Altogether, it was more than enough for twelve citizens to decide that Keith should never see the light of day again.
I’m having the team meeting at our house since there’s really no reason to do it at the office. I haven’t been down there in a while; my assistant, Edna, has been going in every few days to get the mail. Edna sees occasionally having to get the mail as akin to working in a sweatshop; she’s in no danger of locking up the Employee of the Year Award.
Laurie made the phone calls and tells me that Edna was not pleased that actual activity looms on the horizon. Edna discovered the world of crossword puzzle tournaments in her sixties and spends all her time preparing for and competing in those tournaments. She’s had a few top-ten finishes, which means she’s a hell of a lot better crossword puzzler than she is legal assistant.
The entire legal dream team is assembled by 2:00 P.M. Sam Willis is my accountant turned computer whiz kid, capable of hacking into anything. Hike is the only other lawyer in the firm, very capable but also always positive that the worst thing that could happen is about to happen.
Then there is Willie, who has no real function other than to provide general help, especially of the physical variety, when we need it. He is a karate expert and possesses absolutely no fear. He would be the toughest person I know, if I didn’t know Marcus.
The advantage of having Marcus come to the house in broad daylight is the effect it has on my neighbors. Nobody is going to block my driveway, or have their dog shit on my lawn, or play loud music at night, for fear that I might have Marcus pay them a visit. And no one would dream of robbing our house.
“First of all, we don’t really have a client in this case,” is how I start the meeting. I pause to let Edna finish her sigh of relief, and then I continue. “Technically, Keith Wachtel has hired us, but only for the purpose of allowing us to effectively investigate.”
I then proceed to start at the beginning, with Cody showing up at the foundation’s door. Everyone has a recollection of the details of Dylan’s abduction, just from the media reports. I give them more details based on the trial transcript.
When I’m finished, Laurie adds, “We’re really doing this on behalf of Jill Hickman.”
“So we’re not doing anything other than investigating? No contact with the court system?” Hike asks.
“Not at this point.”
“So there’s nothing for me to do?”
“Not so far,” I say.
“Am I still getting paid?”
“Yes.”
“Great. My recommendation would be to make the investigation long and thorough.”
“What have you got for me?” Sam asks. He’s become increasingly frustrated at being computer-bound during our cases; he sees himself as a cross between Marshal Dillon and Bat Masterson. Sam has recently acquired a gun permit, and in an even worse development for the citizens of New Jersey, he’s also gotten a gun. I caught him practicing his draw once in his office; based on what I saw, he should stay off the streets at high noon.
Marcus doesn’t say a word during the entire meeting; he just sits there looking scary and unnerving me. Marcus almost never says a word, or at least not one that I can understand. Fortunately, he reports to Laurie on our chain of command; they like each other and work well together.
I don’t really have any specific assignments for anyone yet and may never have any. I just wanted to bring them up to date and alert them to the fact that I may be calling on them.
It’s not until they all leave that the only potentially significant event of the day happens. It’s a call from my vet, Dan Dowling.
“Andy, I’ve got something for you.”
“What?”
“I think I have some good news. You should come down here.”
“I’ll be right there.”
he blood tests and x-rays showed nothing. I even did ultrasounds. Nothing,” Dowling says.
“Have we gotten to the good part yet?” I ask.
“Of course not. I’m just taking you through the process. So I was about to call you and report my lack of success, but I still wanted to figure out what was causing the limp. Diagnostically, I saw no reason for it.”
He pauses as if waiting for me to jump in, but I’m not inclined to jump. I just want to wait to find out where this is going and, hopefully, where Cody has been.
“So I ran some additional blood tests, called titers, which screen for specific diseases. We had eleven negatives, and one positive—for anahlichtia.”
I nod. “Just as I suspected.” Then, “What the hell is anahlichtia?”
“It’s a tick-borne disease … very rare. It can cause paralysis in dogs, and even when it is treated, there can be permanent physical effects. Like a limp.”
“What does that tell you about where Cody has been living?”
“That’s the good part. It was first discovered in southeastern Canada about twenty years ago and has very slowly been making its way south. I did some research, and 80 percent of the reported cases in the U.S. have been in Maine. The other 20 percent has been divided evenly between Vermont and New Hampshire.”
This is good news, even if I don’t yet know what to do with it. Hopefully, other things will come up that will make this information more valuable. Of course, as with anything else, there are caveats. Cody could have spent the last two years in Florida but acquired the disease while on a one-week family vacation in Maine.
So right now, what we know is that Cody may or may not have been in Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, or Canada. It’s not exactly a case-cracker.
Dr. Dowling prescribes some medication for Cody to take to make him feel better, which I will get to Jill. I thank him and leave to go home and read the remaining discovery material that Richard Wallace has sent over.
Going through discovery documents is never any fun. It’s like reading a terribly sad novel of human suffering, except it’s a true story. One moment Jill Hickman had a child that she loved more than anything, and the next moment she didn’t.
All she was left with was pain.
And qu
estions that were never answered.
If we’re going to find out where Cody has been, it’s going to be by someone coming forward. Pete called Laurie to tell her that there were no prints on the note, which leaves us with no other options. Pete has also set up a tip line, through which members of the public with knowledge about Cody can report it. He has promised to update Laurie if it bears fruit.
So if I have no way of finding out where Cody has been, I might as well try to figure out how he got there. Of course, the police have already conducted an extensive investigation, without bothering to focus on that question.
They deemed it at least semi-irrelevant. They concluded, and the jury agreed with their conclusion, that Keith Wachtel took Dylan and Cody. The presumption was that he murdered the little boy, though no evidence existed to demonstrate that. Their reasoning was based on that lack of evidence and the theory that if he placed Dylan somewhere, they would have been likely to uncover where that might be.
As far as Cody goes, to the extent that they thought about it at all, they just assumed that Keith either killed the dog as well or perhaps let him loose somewhere. If the latter were the case, then Cody’s reappearance on the scene is consistent with their suppositions.
The only witness to the crime, if you don’t include Dylan, Cody, and the perpetrator, was the nanny, Teresa Mullins. She was the one who got pistol-whipped in the process and who identified Keith’s car and voice.
There is very little about her in the documents other than her testimony regarding the abduction and the fact that she was a trusted employee of Jill’s. She was hospitalized briefly for her facial injuries and then released.
I’m going to need to find her, if only because I can’t think of anyone else to find. It’s possible that Jill has kept in touch, and I’ll ask her, but for now I’ll put Sam on the case to find out whatever he can about her, starting with where she lives now. If the information is in Internet-land, and everything is in Internet-land, then Sam can shake the cybertree until it falls out.
Sam answers the phone on the first ring, as he does every single time I’ve called him. He must take the phone into the shower and who knows where else.
“Talk to me,” he says, a new opening he’s picked up.
“I was already planning to,” I say. “That’s why I dialed your number.”
“What’s up, boss?”
“I need you to find Teresa Mullins. She was the nanny in the Dylan Hickman case.”
“That’s it?”
He’s disappointed; the assignment provides little opportunity for shooting. “For now. Keep it holstered, Wyatt.”
“I’m on it.”
eaving the dog at the rescue place eased her mind more than she expected. Not all the way; she never even had the slightest hope of that. But she had done something, no matter how little, and now there were other people who could run with the ball.
The last time she had tried, with the lawyer, it had gone horribly, and her guilt had only increased. This would end differently, or at least she hoped it would.
So now she was heading home, although she would never really consider it home. The only place that really felt like home was a thousand miles to the north, and she had lived in three places since then. At first, she had tried being close to home, but she gradually moved farther and farther away, just to be safe.
Moving all those times was probably not necessary, but she took no chances. She wanted to make sure that they could not find her.
She stopped at the grocery store when she got into the town, fifteen minutes from her house. The people who lived in the town called it a supermarket, but that’s only because they did not know what real supermarkets were like. This was a grocery store, pure and simple, but it served her needs.
She didn’t talk to anyone in the town; she rarely did. A few times she had ventured out, trying to be sociable, but had quickly pulled back.
She briefly entertained the thought that now that she had given the dog back, it might signal a turn in her life. Maybe she would move one more time, not home but to someplace more to her liking. And then she would make friends and live a normal life.
A life not full of fear.
Exhausted from her ordeal, she arrived home just after eight o’clock in the evening. She left the shopping bags in the car while she went inside to turn on some lights.
As always, she hated walking into a dark house, and as it turned out, this was the last time she ever would. She felt the hands grab her and instantly knew she could never escape them.
She also knew that the owner of those hands was the man called Kyle. And Kyle simply said, in the voice she had hoped never to hear again, “We trusted you and let you live. Big mistake.”
ill hasn’t seen or spoken to Teresa Mullins since before the trial,” Laurie says.
We’re using Laurie to do most of the contact with Jill; Jill seems more comfortable with her.
“That makes sense,” I say. “But does she know where she’s living or how to reach her?”
“No. The old number she had for her is disconnected.”
“How did she come to hire her in the first place?”
“It was through an agency; they’re the ones who checked and provided her references. You have any reason to think she is part of this?”
“No, but at this point, I have no reason to think anything. A woman dropped Cody off at the foundation, and she’s the only woman involved in the case right now except you.” I look at Laurie suspiciously. “You didn’t leave Cody at the foundation, did you?”
Laurie smiles. “No.”
“Great,” I say. “We’re really narrowing it down now.”
I ask Laurie to call Jill and get the name of the agency that she used to hire Teresa Mullins, and she does so. I call it and ask to speak to the manager, who I’m told is a woman named Kathe Iovene.
“Ms. Iovene, my name is Andy Carpenter. I’m an attorney, and—”
She interrupts me. “The Andy Carpenter?”
I like this woman already. “I think so. I’m the only Andy Carpenter I know, so at the very least I’m one of the Andy Carpenters.”
“The big-time attorney, right?”
This is a conversation I never want to end. “I believe that’s me, yes.”
“Wow. I’m sort of a courtroom junkie, so I’ve followed a lot of your cases. This is so cool. How can I help you?”
“I’m calling about a nanny you placed a while back named Teresa Mullins. She was—”
“Oh, I remember Teresa,” she says. “She was there for that terrible kidnapping.”
“Yes. I’ve been trying to reach her.”
“Join the club, Mr. Carpenter.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have money for her. Not too much, just about $300. There was a mix-up in accounting, and we owe it to her. I’ve given up trying to find her.”
“What’s the last address you had?” I ask.
She asks me to hold while she goes to find it. It takes a few minutes, during which Laurie asks me what’s going on. “She’s trying to find the address,” I say. “She’s a big fan.”
“She’s an address fan?” Laurie asks.
“No, a Carpenter fan, of the Andy variety. She worships me.”
Laurie shakes her head. “That is one strange cult.”
Iovene finally comes back on the line and gives me the address: 432 Jefferson Road, in Nobleboro, Maine.
Maine, home of the anahlichtia tick.
Iovene also gives me a phone number that she had for Mullins but says it’s been disconnected for years.
“When was the last time you talked to her?”
“I think it was just after the kidnapping. I wanted to make sure she was all right and see if there was anything we could do. She was pretty shaken up … I mean, who wouldn’t be?”
I thank her and hang up and then call Sam to see what he’s learned.
“I was just going to call you,” is how he answers the phon
e.
“Good. What did you find out?”
“Nothing. Teresa Mullins, at least the Teresa Mullins that you’re looking for, no longer exists.”
“She’s dead?”
“Could be, but I doubt it. When I say she no longer exists, I mean under that identity. If she died while still using her name, there would be a record of it.”
“So what are you saying?” I ask.
“I’m saying that going back for a few years, Teresa Mullins has left no imprint on the planet. She hasn’t used a credit card, had a telephone or a bank account. She hasn’t gotten sick, or maintained a driver’s license, or even died. She has to have assumed a new identity and effectively disappeared.”
“Could she have legally changed her name?”
“No,” Sam says. “I would have found a record of that. She’s gone, Andy.”
aybe she changed her name because she wanted to get out of the spotlight,” Laurie says. “She could have just wanted to put the entire terrible experience behind her.”
I shake my head. “That makes sense, but according to Sam it’s not possible. He claims he would have found a record of her changing her name, of records being transferred from one name to another.”
“So what do you make of it?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. Can you go down to the agency to press them further? Maybe they’ll have more information in the file.”
She nods. “Absolutely.”
“Good. Right now, it’s time for a session with Tara.”
Laurie knows what I mean by that. When I need to think through something, I take Tara and Sebastian for a long walk. Sebastian doesn’t often add much insight to the issue at hand; his main concern is where to sniff and piss. But Tara is different; she often leads me to conclusions I wouldn’t otherwise have reached.
“Try not to take too long,” Laurie says. “I ordered a pizza.”
“With what on it?”
“Same as always. Ricky and I have half, and you have the other half. Your half is plain cheese, the way you like it.”
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