by Eva Pohler
Even the news from the asbestos abatement company that their final bill came to $175,000 for the removal of all plumbing, insulation, and ceiling tiles—all found to contain asbestos—didn’t ruin her holiday, as long as she didn’t think about it.
She and her family members went shopping, played board games, watched movies, and sat together and visited, enjoying one another’s company. Although Ellen was anxious to get to the hearing in Tulsa and to check on the status of the building and the oil rig, she wasn’t ready for the holiday to end. She was never ready for her children to leave.
Monday came early.
Paul dropped Ellen and her friends off at the train station at six-thirty in the morning. Sue traveled in her motorized wheelchair and enjoyed another trip with special treatment from the staff. They spent the night in Oklahoma City and drove to Norman for a meeting with Bob at IHOP in the morning.
They made small talk until the waitress took their order and delivered coffee to their table. With the jolt of caffeine, Ellen was ready for business.
“Can we have a progress report, Bob?” she asked.
“My team of forensic anthropologists has been able to establish that one hundred and twelve individual bodies were recovered from the walls of your building,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee.
“I wonder how many more are behind that concrete door at The Brady Theater,” Sue said.
“From Ellen’s video footage, I would suspect more,” Bob said. “At least two hundred.”
“Were you able to identify any of the bodies?” Tanya asked.
Bob laughed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That’s going to take quite a bit of time. And we are very unlikely to be successful without medical records for comparisons. What we have been able to accomplish, however, is a biological profile on each of the individual skeletons—most of which we had to piece together, by the way. They were nowhere near perfectly preserved inside that wall.”
The waitress arrived with their food.
“Sounds like a lot of painstaking work,” Tanya admitted.
“That’s an understatement,” Bob said. “Anyhow, we’ve been able to show that all but two of the subjects are of African ancestry. One is Native American and the other is Caucasian.”
“That supports our theory that they’re victims of the riot,” Sue stated.
Bob nodded. “And, we’ve placed the postmortem age of the bones to between eighty and one hundred years, which also supports our theory.”
“That’s awesome,” Tanya said. “Great work, Bob!”
Bob’s statement reminded Ellen about the forensic report she’d received from the lab. Although she’d called Bob to tell him about it, she now handed over a copy of the report for his records and for Thursday’s court hearing.
“I brought the skeleton arm back with me,” she said. “When I see Simol tonight, I’ll ask her to show me where she buried the rest of Achak.”
After their meeting with Bob, Ellen drove to Tulsa, heading straight to their property. They didn’t even check into their hotel first. They were dying to see the progress.
Ellen pulled up to the curb. The new driveway leading through their coded gate was blocked with the trucks of the workers—both those working on the building and those working on the oil rig. Ellen was anxious to get updates from them, but first she had to see the inside of the old social club.
Sue hobbled across the field with her cane behind Ellen and Tanya. The front entrance now looked stately with the wooden doors refinished. And the porch was more visible with the dead vines, weeds, and brush cleared away. The property would need quite a bit of landscaping eventually, but for now, it looked much improved.
When they entered the ballroom, the sight of the massive room with its refinished wooden floors, new windows and skylights, and streams of natural light beaming throughout took Ellen’s breath away. Tears formed in her eyes, and when she blinked, they fell onto her cheeks.
“It’s incredible,” Tanya murmured as she wiped away tears.
“Now don’t break down just yet,” Sue said. “We still have more to see.”
The skating rink was equally stunning, as was the bowling alley—the four lines waxed to perfection. It lacked pins and bowling balls, but the infrastructure was there and waiting to be properly fitted out.
Even the dining hall had been completely refurbished, the new appliances already installed. One of the workers greeted them and showed them that the water was on. The sinks and toilets were fully functional—even though the bathrooms were still incomplete. The tile work, stalls, mirrors, lighting, and fixtures still needed to be installed.
Most of the lighting throughout the building still needed to be installed, but the electrical work had been completed and the power had been turned on.
“I know it will ultimately be up to the buyer,” Ellen said as they stood in the dining hall. “But I think we should call this place Monroe’s Social Club—maybe even have a sign made.”
“I like that,” Tanya said.
“It’s definitely something to consider,” Sue agreed.
As they made their way from the eastern exit (it was strange to Ellen that only a month ago, they’d referred to it as the hobo camp), Ellen was surprised by how many workers were behind the building at the oil rig. She hadn’t realized such a large crew was required. At least a dozen men and one woman gathered around the machines and equipment. Ellen wondered what was going on.
One of them noticed Ellen and her friends watching, and he walked over to them and introduced himself.
“Hello, I’m Gregory Clive of Best Well Services,” he said shaking each of their hands. “I believe I’ve spoken on the phone with at least two of you.”
“That would be me,” Ellen said.
“And me,” Sue said.
“Well, I thought you ladies might like to know that we got the okay to begin pumping, and in the last two days, we’ve consistently produced an equivalent of a net gain of twenty-thousand dollars—per day.”
Ellen felt her stomach flop. “What does that mean?”
“That means that your well is making you twenty thousand dollars a day,” he said. “That’s net. After I take my cut.”
Ellen’s knees started shaking and her heart was pumping out of control.
“How long do you expect the well to produce at that rate?” Sue asked.
“We can’t give you a precise time frame, but based on our findings, you have at least a good five years’ worth of steady production here. The reservoir is one of the deepest we’ve seen in Tulsa.”
“Unbelievable,” Sue whispered.
Tanya had covered her face with both hands, as though she couldn’t bear the sunlight.
Twenty-thousand dollars a day for five years? Ellen couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. She couldn’t calculate what that amounted to. Even divided by three, it was an enormous sum. She felt like she was going to faint.
“I need to sit down,” she finally said.
Gregory Clive laughed. “I felt the same way when I realized what we had here. I’m grateful you hired my company for the job. Things have been slow in my industry lately. This find is like a shot of java straight to my veins.”
They had barely had a moment to recover after they’d made their way back to the van when Sue, who was looking at her phone, suddenly cried, “Oh, no!”
“What’s wrong?” Tanya asked.
“I just got a horrible text! Oh my gawd! I need to call Lexi!”
Sue tapped on the screen of her phone and put it on speaker.
“It was a threat!” Sue said as the phone rang. “The text said that if I wanted to see my daughter again, I would make sure Thursday’s court hearing is a failure.”
“I can’t believe that!” Ellen said. “Should I head toward her apartment?”
“Yes! And Tanya, I need you to call 9-1-1 and give them Lexi’s address.”
“What is it?” Tanya asked.
“Hello?” Lexi’s
voice came over the phone.
“Oh, thank gawd,” Sue said in between heavy breaths. “Lexi, where are you?”
“I’m at home. Why?”
“Is Stephen with you?”
“No. Mom, what’s the matter?”
“Where is he? At work?” Sue asked as she took a pen and paper and wrote down Lexi’s address for Tanya.
“He stayed home today, but he went to the store awhile ago. We’re out of everything, and I’ve been under the weather.”
“I’m on my way to your apartment now,” Sue said. “But I want you to stay on the phone with me until we get there. Tanya is on the phone right now with the police.”
Tanya was speaking over Sue, delivering the address to the 9-1-1 dispatcher on the phone. “That’s right. A threatening text.” Tanya summarized the message.
Meanwhile, Lexi asked, “What? The police? Why?”
“I’m not trying to scare you, Lexi, but I just received a threatening text. It said that if I wanted to see my daughter again, I’d make sure Thursday’s court hearing was a failure.”
“If you’re not trying to scare me, you’re not doing a very good job of it.”
“Listen to me, Lexi. Make sure your doors and windows are locked. Close all your blinds and curtains. Can you do that?”
“I’m doing it right now.”
“Have you noticed anything unusual lately?”
“Not really. Well, there was one thing, but I thought I was imagining it. But now…”
“What, Lexi. Tell me.”
“For the past few weeks, I’ve felt like someone was following me. Maybe we just go to all the same places. I don’t know.”
“Could you tell what the person looked like or what kind of vehicle it was?” Sue asked.
“I never saw the guy good enough to see what he looked like, but he drove a black Jeep.”
“Oh, gawd,” Sue moaned. “Can you drive any faster, Ellen?”
Ellen sped up. “You’re going to have to tell me what exit to take.”
“Mom, Stephen’s calling me on the other line. I’m going to put you on hold.”
“No, Lexi. Stay with me.”
“Just hold on. I’ll be right back.”
Tanya continued to talk to the 9-1-1 dispatcher. “Lexi just put her mother on hold to take another call.”
“Exit in one mile,” Sue said to Ellen. “Creek Turnpike. Go right, er, south.”
“Mom?” Lexi’s voice was shaking.
“I’m here. What’s wrong?”
“They’ve got Stephen downstairs in the parking lot,” she said breathlessly. “They said if I don’t come out, they’re going to kill him. What should I do? I don’t know what to do! Oh, God!”
“Oh, lord help us!” Sue cried. “Lexi, listen to me! Do NOT go outside. You’ve got to find a way to stall them until the police arrive.”
Tanya relayed to the 9-1-1 dispatcher what Lexi had just told them.
“No, Mom. They gave me five minutes, or they’re going to shoot Stephen in the head.”
“She said they were giving her five minutes,” Tanya said into her phone. “Or they would shoot her husband.” Then she turned to Sue. “Tell Lexi that they won’t kill him, because he’s the only leverage they have.”
“They’re bluffing!” Sue shouted into the phone. “Don’t listen to them. They want you, not him. If they kill him, they won’t be able to get you to cooperate.”
“Mom, I’m sorry. I can’t take the chance. I’m going down there.”
“No, Lexi. Please.” Then she said to Ellen, “Exit here. In three miles, take the 31st Street exit.”
“I love you, Mom,” Lexi said through sobs. “I’m unlocking the door and going out into the hall. So far, I’m alone.”
“Please go back inside,” Sue begged. “The police are on their way.”
“I can’t,” Lexi cried, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” Sue said, as she broke down into heaving, desperate sobs.
Ellen was so flustered that she could barely think. She nearly missed her exit.
“I’m so sorry that I got you into this mess, my darling,” Sue cried.
“I see them,” Lexi said.
“The police?” Sue asked.
“No, Stephen and the man who’s holding him at gunpoint. I can’t believe this is happening in broad daylight. Where is everyone?”
“Stay where you are, Lexi. Have they seen you? It’s not too late to turn back.”
“I hear the police coming. Mom, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared.”
“I am, too, darling. That’s why I want you to wait. Wait for the police. I’m almost there. We’re turning onto your street now.”
“They’re in the parking lot right in front of my building. Be careful, Mom. Oh.”
“What? Lexi?”
“They see me.”
“Turn here,” Sue said, “This is her apartment complex.”
Ellen saw a cop car up ahead parked behind the dumpster with its lights off. She realized then that it was hiding. The officer was crouched behind the dumpster with his gun pulled. Ellen followed the line of the officer’s gun and lost her breath when she saw an older man with a gun trained on Stephen’s temple.
The man was tall and round and muscular with gray curly hair that just covered his ears. In fact, he looked a lot like the officer that was hiding behind the dumpster.
They were the two Ryans—father and son. Was the son there to help Lexi or his father?
Ellen stepped out of the van, her heart pounding in her ears.
“Where are you going?” Sue called to her.
But Ellen could barely hear her. She could only wonder where the other police officers were. Hadn’t Lexi said she’d heard them coming?
As she walked toward the younger Officer Ryan crouched behind the dumpster, she noticed Lexi step out from a line of parked cars to stand in front of Stephen and his abductor.
“Here I am,” Lexi said. “You said you wouldn’t hurt him if I came.”
The gunman shoved Stephen to the side and trained his weapon on Lexi. “Come with me!”
The younger Ryan darted from his position behind the dumpster and pointed his weapon at the gunman.
“Drop it!” the younger Officer Ryan commanded.
The older man looked at the officer, startled. Then he smiled and said, “You wouldn’t shoot your own father.”
“Drop it, or I’ll shoot!” the younger officer insisted.
The older Ryan trained his gun on Stephen, who’d been slowly backing away.
As a weapon fired, Lexi screamed, and, for a moment, Ellen wasn’t sure who had shot whom. But then she saw the older Ryan down on the ground, on his back, bleeding from the chest, and gasping for air.
Lexi and Stephen ran into each other’s arms.
The younger Ryan hurried to his father’s side, all the while screaming into his phone, “Officer down! I need an ambulance right away!”
Ellen was speechless and unable to move, until she saw Sue driving her motorized wheelchair across the parking lot toward Lexi. For some reason, the sight of that made her laugh, and once she’d started, she couldn’t stop.
Chapter Thirty-One: Reparations
Things did not go as planned in court.
Ellen was caught off guard when the city’s defense attorney questioned her on the stand, focusing on how she came to be in the possession of a document which the prosecution claimed had been signed in October, 1921, by Tulsa Police Officer Van Hurley. Ellen told the truth (without mentioning the Ouija Board), but the defense attorney—a dark-haired woman with a thin nose, brown, beady eyes, and straight white teeth—undermined everything Ellen said by bringing up Patty Cole’s testimony about her grandfather’s ghost.
“Are you asking the court to believe that the spirit of Van Hurley led you to this document, and that it is an authentic affidavit from 1921?”
“Yes,” Ellen said. “I think
how I found the document is less important than the fact that it exists.”
“No, Mrs. Mohr,” the defense attorney said. “How you found it completely discredits you as a witness and this document as evidence.”
“Objection, your honor,” Jillian Bridges said.
“Sustained. Miss Carson, do you have further questions for this witness””
“No, your honor, I do not.”
Ellen wasn’t allowed to be present in the court while the other witnesses provided their testimony, so she sat in the courthouse lobby, waiting. When Sue had finished, she joined her. Eventually, Tanya, too, came out. With lowered voices, they told each other about their experiences, none of which were good.
“I really thought we had this in the bag,” Sue said.
It wasn’t until Bob came to join them in the lobby after having given his testimony that their spirits were lifted.
“The judge seemed impressed with my findings,” he said. “I think it’s enough to take the lawsuit to trial.”
On Friday, Ellen and her friends had a lunch date with Pete Mayo, the owner of The Brady Theater. They met him at the Greek restaurant across from The Tavern at Main and Brady. After they ordered, they began with small talk—about how much they had enjoyed seeing Michael Carbonaro perform and how much they appreciated the historical integrity of the building.
“It could use a little freshening up, though,” Sue said. “And that’s why we wanted to meet with you today.”
“I don’t understand,” Pete Mayo said as the water delivered their drinks. “While I do plan to repaint the ceiling tiles this year and replace some of the seats the next, it will be some years before I can manage extensive renovations. Are you here representing a firm? If so, this meeting is a waste of time.”