by John Sullins
The man’s face showed a slight smile, “Come with me, maybe I can help. I’m John Stanley, county prosecutor.”
Keith followed him up a set of stairs and into his office. “What’s your name?”
“Keith Hunter.”
Stanley sat down behind his desk and began typing on the keyboard of his computer. “You are right, she was sheriff from 2004 through 2005. This does not show any information about relatives.”
Keith stayed quiet and held his breath as Stanley continued typing. When he stopped he shook his head no and picked up his phone to dial.
“Hey Rosie, this is Stanley. How far back do your computer records go?”
“Can you check for Sue Davis Lang as the mother, sometime around 2005 or so?”
He put his hand over the phone, “Is that about the right time period for a birth?”
Stanley spoke into the phone. “I don’t really know.”
“What about marriage licenses for Sue Davis Lang.”
They sat quiet and waited.
He pressed the phone to his ear and nodded yes at Keith as he spoke into the phone, “Yes that’s it. Yes, now check for any children she had.”
He put his hand over the phone. “She found a marriage license for her, now she’s looking for birth of any children.”
The anxiety was building and Keith’s stomach was churning.
Stanley picked up a pencil and began writing. “Ok, I got that. What about the next generation, yes, check it as far forward as you can. Yes, I’ll wait.”
He smiled and nodded towards the window in his office. “Is this your first time here?”
“Yes, until this morning I did not know this town existed.”
“Where you from?”
“The past few years I’ve been in the Army. I came here from Indianapolis.”
“How did you find out about your great grandmother?”
Keith looked at the burn scar on his wrist. “A friend in Indianapolis had a friend who had access to a computer at the county office there. She was able to get the names of my grandmother and my great grandmother along with my grandfather and great grandfather. But the only additional thing she could tell me was that she was at one time a sheriff in Maine.”
Stanley turned his attention back to the phone. He wrote more notes on the pad.
“Great Rosie, I owe you one. Thanks.” He put the phone down and handed Keith the paper.
“I don’t know if this will help, but here is the address where she lived in 2017 when she gave birth to her son, Brandon. If you take that to the tax office, they should be able to backtrack the ownership of the property. I’m thinking there could be a chance the property has passed down from one family member to another.”
Chapter 26
Keith was surprised to see several of the overhead lights on when he stepped to the counter and smiled at the grandmotherly woman sitting at a desk to the right of the doorway of the tax office.
The woman leaned over slightly and held onto the desk when she stood up and moved slowly to the counter. Her knees seemed stiff and she limped with each step.
“May I help you?”
“”Yes, mam,” he handed her the paper.
“I would like to know if you can tell me who now owns this property.”
She looked at the paper. “I should be able to do that.”
She took the paper and returned to her desk. As she worked on her computer Keith saw her eyes narrow slightly and he suddenly became worried there might be a problem. He hoped she was not going to tell him she has no record of the address or property.
She wrote something on the paper and returned her attention to the computer. After a few long two minutes she wrote something else on the paper. She balanced her weight on the desk again as she stood up and returned to the counter.
“Was Sue Davis Lang Hunter a relative?”
“Yes, my great grandmother.”
She studied his face a second before handing him the paper and saying, “This is unusual. If my information is correct, she still owns it.”
Keith took a half step backwards. “How can that be possible?”
She shook her head, “I don’t know. But the taxes are being paid every year.”
Keith’s heart was pounding. He was thinking it had to be a distant relative. “By who?”
She pointed to the paper in his hand. “I wrote the name on the paper. Taxes are being paid by an attorney.”
Keith read the name, Joni Chade.
“Her address is there too. Her office is across the river on West Main, just past the hospital.”
He looked at the paper again and saw the address and the phone number for Chade’s office.
His voice was broken with tension and excitement, “Thank you very much.”
Chapter 27
He was out the door and back to the van as fast as his legs would take him. He drove to the end of the block, turned right, then made another right at the end of the street. He turned left onto Pleasant St and crossed the river to Main Street.
As he passed the hospital he spotted a small white sign, about three foot square, hanging on a pole mounted on the front of a tan brick building, Joni Chade – Attorney at Law.
He nosed the van into a diagonal parking slot on the side of the building and gave no thought to the expired out of state license plate on the back of the van. After turning off the engine he closed his eyes and lowered his face into the palms of his hands.
“Please LORD, please help me find my family. Please LORD please.”
He put his left hand on the door handle but it was shaking so badly it slipped off. He used both hands and pulled until it clicked and the door opened. He walked around the back of the van to the sidewalk and the door under sign.
The office lobby was very plain and very small. There were no pictures on the walls, metal desk sat at an angle in the back left corner and two cushioned chairs sat against the opposite wall. There were no lights on and no one at the desk. His first thought was that the office was vacant, maybe for rent.
He looked at a closed door to the right of the desk, “Hello, anyone here?”
A woman’s voice responded, “Just a minute, I’ll be right there.”
He paced in circles for five minutes until the door opened. A tall thin woman in her late fifties with neatly cut grey hair and wearing a pants suit which matched her hair came through the door.
“I am Joni Chade, what can I do for you.”
Keith’s hands were shaking worse than before. When he held out his hand to shake hers, he dropped the paper and fumbled nervously trying to pick it up.
“I’m sorry. I’m really nervous.”
She smiled, “Are you in trouble? A court date coming up?”
“No, never been arrested. My name is Keith Hunter. I need to know what you can tell me about Sue Davis Lang, I mean Sue Davis Lang Hunter.”
“What do you want to know about her? Why are you asking about her?”
“She is my great grandmother.”
Keith saw her mouth open and her jaw drop. She stood staring at him until he said, “I grew up in an orphanage. Until a few months ago, I thought I had no relatives. I came to town hoping I have family members here.”
She continued to stay quiet.
“I just talked to a Mr. Stanly who was able to get me this address from the hospital birth records. Then a lady at the tax office told me that you have been paying the taxes on that property. Are you one of her relatives?”
She turned and opened the door to her inner office, “Come in, we need to talk.”
Her office was larger than the outer office and well decorated with flowers which Keith assumed were artificial.
“Have a seat Mr. Hunter.”
He sat in a chair across the desk and leaned forward, anxious to hear what she would say.
“First things first. I need to verify you are who you say you are. Do you have a birth certificate with you?”
“No I don’t.”
“Driver’s license?”
“No, just my military Id. I got out last year, did not have a car until a few days ago. I was in such a big hurry to get here, I did not take the time to get a license.”
“I need to see your military ID.”
He took his wallet from his pocket, opened it so she could see the ID, and handed her the wallet.
She looked at it and made notes on a yellow pad.
“What’s your financial situation Mr. Hunter?”
“What? What does my financial position have to do with finding relatives?”
“It has nothing to do with finding relatives, but there may be other factors involved here.”
“”Oh no, if she owes back taxes, I’ can’t help. I have about fifty bucks, maybe less. Look in the money slot and you will see for yourself.”
She grinned and suppressed a laugh. “No need for me to see your money.”
“Before we get too deep into this, tell me your story, everything you know about your great grandmother.”
He tilted his head to the side trying to imagine why she wanted to know that.”
He told her his life story, about his father dying in the Army, his mother dying in a traffic accident. He told her about the foster homes, the orphanage, and about his friend Jim Cooper and Jim’s sister Rebecca. He told her how he and Jim left the Army together and hitchhiked to Indianapolis where Rebecca told him about his parents, grandparents and great grandparents. Tears formed in his eyes as he told her about the fire that killed Jim and Rebecca a few months ago and about the time he spent recovering in the hospital from his burns.
When he finished talking, Chade leaned back in her chair. “Well Keith, I have a story to tell you. But I won’t go into all of the details right now, I need to verify a few things first. But what I will tell you is that yes, I am paying taxes on that property.”
He interrupted, “Why?”
“Hang on, I know you have a thousand questions, but this is complicated, let me talk at my own pace. As I just said, I won’t tell you everything until I can verify you are who you say you are, that you are an actual blood relative of Sue Davis Lang Hunter.”
He started to say something but stopped himself.
“Actually, I am not paying the taxes, her estate has an escrow account which pays the taxes. The property is being maintained, there is a caretaker that does a good job at the house. I have been there myself and can verify that. Anyhow, I have been handling this estate for many years. My father and grandfather were both her personal attorneys. We have been looking for a relative for years.”
Questions buzzed through his head. He wanted to ask, but he forced himself to stay quiet.
“What was your mother’s and father’s names?” She held her pencil in her hand ready to take notes.
“My father was Forest Hunter. My mother was born Joan Warren. Her mother was born Mary Todd. Both were born in Indianapolis.”
“What was your grandfather’s name, on your father’s side?”
“Brandon Hunter, he was born in Cleveland.”
“Your great grandfather, on the same side of the family?”
“Ralph Hunter, Cleveland.”
She turned in her chair and opened the drawer of a file cabinet behind her. She lifted out a thick file and searched through the many folders in the file until she found the one she wanted. She put the folder on her desk, opened it, and moved her note pad alongside. She nodded her head as she silently matched the notes she had just made with the file.
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
“Where are you staying Mr. Hunter?”
“Probably in my van. I don’t have much money.”
Chapter 28
Joni continued smiling. “Keith, because I believe you are who you say you are, I am going to get you a room for the next couple of nights.”
“Why would you do that?”
She held up her hand as if a traffic cop stopping a car at an intersection. “Keith, I have my reasons. If everything works out, I will deduct the expense from the escrow account.”
He looked at her as if looking at a puzzle, but he did not speak.
His confusion was obvious and understandable. She knew she had to tell him more but could not be sure she was being scammed. She picked up the phone and dialed. Keith listened to the one sided conversation.
“Jimmy B, Joni here. I need your help, priority level.”
She listened.
“Yes, this is extremely important.”
She listened.
“OK, what is the only case you have never solved for me?”
She listened.
“You got it right!”
She listened and her smile got wider.
“You got a pencil? His name is Keith Hunter, date of birth March 3, 2059. Father, Forest Hunter, grandfather Brandon Hunter both from Maine. Great grandfather was Ralph Hunter, born in Cleveland. No Jimmie, I’m serious, no joke.”
She listened.
“Ready? Mother was born Joan Warren, grandmother was born Mary Todd. Both were born in Indianapolis.”
She listened.
“No date of births for anyone but Keith Hunter. He is sitting across the desk from me right now.”
She listened and laughed.
“No, he has no knowledge of any of that.”
She listened.
“No, it certainly does not seem that way. In fact I think it is quite the opposite.”
She listened.
“Alright, but I don’t have to tell you how important this is. How long will it take for you to check it out?”
She listened.
“Great, I am going to put him up in a local motel for the night. Call me back as soon as you know anything. You have my home number right?”
“Ok then, I’ll be waiting.”
Keith waited for her to put down the phone. “You have to tell me what is happening here. Who was that?”
“That was a private investigator, a retired FBI man. He can find out things better than anyone. He has contacts everywhere.”
He stood up and turned in a circle. “Tell me what is happening here, please.”
She wanted to tell him everything but knew she had to wait.
“I will tell you that when Sue Davis Lang Hunter passed away, there were no known living relatives. For reasons I can’t yet tell you, her will established a trust fund that required her properties to be maintained, taxes paid, etc.”
She pointed to the chair so he would sit down and stop pacing.
“If you are who you say you are, and we are able to verify it, and get approval of the court, you will be the sole heir to the estate and then I will be able to give you all of the details of the will. But until that time, I can’t tell you any more than that.”
“A will, an estate? But no relatives?
“Keith, this estate has been in escrow for many years. If there had been relatives, we would have settled the estate years ago. Until you walked in the door and told me your story, I was of the belief the estate would never be resolved.”
Keith stood up again and leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He was confused, curious, and anxious.
“Keith, let’s go get you a motel room. Have you got money for food?”
He opened his eyes and looked down at her, “What?”
“Do you have enough money so you can eat dinner and breakfast?”
“Uh……….I’m ok, I’m not hungry.”
She smiled again, “Come on, let’s get you a place to stay.”
Chapter 29
The motel was only a block from her office. Keith was still in a state of confusion as he stood beside her at the registration desk and watched her pay for the room for two nights using her credit card.
The man behind the counter, who had talked to her as if he knew her well, handed him a room key.
“We have a generator so we provide electricity to the rooms after the power company turns it off at nine. We
run the generator until eleven. It is on again at six in the morning. We have no room service, but we do set up a free continental breakfast bar at six. There is a restaurant across the street, it is open until ten. Enjoy your stay Mr. Hunter.”
Joni took out a business card from her purse and wrote two numbers on the back. “My office number is on the front, my home and cell numbers are on the back. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call. If I hear anything I will call the room or stop by.”
The room was nothing special as far as motel rooms go, but it was the nicest place to spend the night Keith had ever seen. The rooms he had while in the orphanage were clean, but were all old and in need of paint and other repairs. The Army barracks were nice, but were lacking in privacy. Then there were the barns, abandoned houses and tents.
He took off his coat and tossed it onto the bed, walked to the bathroom and thought about the last time he took a hot shower. That was the night before he was released from the hospital, about two weeks ago. He stripped off his clothes, turned the water knob to hot, and got in. The tension in his muscles lessened as the hot water ran over his head pulling his long brown hair straight down so it touched the edge of his broad shoulders.
He leaned his head against the tiles of the shower wall and let himself soak as he thought about what had just happened and what might happen tomorrow.
Some people sing in the shower, but Keith considered himself a terrible singer. Instead of singing, he spoke aloud and asked himself questions.
“Why has the estate been maintained all these years?”
“Why has an attorney been paying the taxes?”
“How much money has been spent over the years to do this?”
“Where is the house?”
“Am I really the only heir to the estate?”
“How much money is involved?”
When he thought about the possibilities of that question, his knees got weak and his heart began pounding and the tension returned.
Chapter 30
He was not sure what time he finally got to sleep. The bed was comfortable but his anxiety overrode the comfort. He was sitting at a small round table in the breakfast lobby when Joni walked in and sat across the table.