by Laura Hern
A hundred things ran through Lainey’s mind. Investigator, nervous, can’t afford legal fees. Her years on the job had trained her to listen and then think before responding to anything.
“Mary, I am not an attorney, nor can I give you legal advice. I’m sorry if that is why you are here,” Lainey stated.
“Oh no! That’s not what I mean at all!” Mary looked up, her big green eyes a little bit misty. Mary must be in her 40’s, but at the moment, she looked like a scared young girl.
“About a year ago,” Mary started. “My sister, brother, and I thought it would be fun to send our DNA off to find our long, lost ancestors. Everyone was talking about how fun it was to find relatives or cousins they’d never heard about.”
“We sent in our little spit samples thinking it would be fun if we turned out to be related to some famous person. It was only for fun,” she stated as she stared at her coffee cup.
“I’ve heard of these kits, Mary, but I haven’t personally had any experience with them. How do you think I can help you?”
“My brother had different results from my sister and me,” Mary said flatly. “Seems he had a different mother than we did.”
“Oh,” Lainey said. “That must have been a shock.”
“Yes. At first we figured it must be a mistake. You know, someone entered a wrong mother/father or data or something.” Mary blew on her coffee and then took a big sip.
“But it was true.”
Lainey was silent waiting for Mary to continue. She still couldn’t picture why Mary was telling her this.
“Long story short, Lainey, I’m sure you are wondering how this affects our meeting,” Mary said almost as if she had read Lainey’s thoughts.
“I’ve spent a lot of time researching my brother’s new family line,” Mary paused, looked briefly behind her, and whispered. “I think his family is being murdered and I am afraid for him.”
Lainey’s mouth dropped open for a second. She leaned forward in her chair. “Murdered?” she whispered. “Why would you think they are being murdered?”
Lainey regretted the comment as soon as it popped out of her mouth. She was sure Mary saw the shock and disbelief on her face.
“You don’t believe me,” Mary sighed. “My brother doesn’t believe me either. It’s okay.” She stood up to leave.
“Wait! Please don’t leave. I apologize for my comment. I wasn’t expecting to hear what you said.”
“Please, sit down, Mary. Tell me why you think this,” Lainey urged.
There was a noticeable, awkward pause as Mary sat back down. She took a minute to gather her thoughts and continued.
“Lainey, you are a researcher or investigator, aren’t you?”
“Yes, we investigate insurance fraud of different types,” Lainey answered.
“But you know people who have connections to find out things, right? I’m afraid my brother is going to die, and no one will help me!” Tears began to fill her hauntingly green eyes. She was serious. Deadly serious.
Lainey sat back in her chair and took a moment before responding. “Mary, I’m still not quite sure what you want me to do. What proof do you have? Maybe you should be talking to the police.”
“The police won’t help. I tried to explain it to them. They said DNA research was not enough to go on.”
Lainey needed more information. “Tell me the details about why you feel your brother is in danger.”
Over the next thirty minutes, Mary explained that while searching this new family tree line, she found birth and death records with names and dates going back a few generations.
She’d noticed that very recently two of the known bloodline brothers had died unexpectedly. In fact, if the recorded information was correct, only her brother and one other relative remained alive.
Lainey listened while Mary spoke. Thoughts were swirling in her mind: People die, bloodlines die out. What was the origin of this new bloodline? Wealth? Blue Collar? Immigrant? What makes her think of murder?
Mary finished by telling Lainey that she’d researched sites that were used to identify bodies, DNA, and criminal activities. “I think many of these relatives died in suspicious ways.”
Lainey’s ears perked up. “You can access a database like that?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. I had no idea people could get to that kind of information. Do you have a CD or paper files of these results? Remember,” she added, “I’m not an attorney or police officer.”
“I have a ton of information. Can we meet at my house where I have access to my computer?”
“You bet,” Lainey replied as she opened her phone calendar.
“Oh, and Lainey, I don’t want legal or police action here. Sometimes it even sounds ridiculous to me.” Mary finished.
They decided to meet on the coming Saturday and Lainey entered the date into her calendar.
Chapter 2
After a very busy week, Saturday finally came. Saturday mornings were usually spent doing the chores she’d put off during the week. Laundry, cleaning, and dusting were not her most favorite things, but Lainey had learned long ago she was a morning person. If she was going to get these done, she had to get started on them early. She completed her chores still thinking of her upcoming meeting with Mary Chase.
By 2 p.m., Lainey was standing on the porch of a small white farmhouse with a burned-wooden sign across the top of the front door that read The Chase House. She saw duct tape across the doorbell and decided to knock.
Mary Chase opened the door, smiled, and greeted her. “Hi, Lainey. I didn’t know if you would come. I’ve got everything ready. Please, make yourself at home.”
Lainey nodded, thanked her, and stepped inside. Two large poodles greeted her, jumping on her legs with tails wagging.
“Mille! Gertie! Stop that!” snapped Mary as she shooed the dogs away. “I’m sorry about that. The girls are really friendly. Please follow me into the kitchen.”
“No problem. I have a cat that wants to be in your lap constantly.”
“Put your things on the table if you can find a space. Nothing can hurt this old thing. It’s the only desk I have, and I use it for everything.” Mary said as she pulled back a chair.
She was right. There was a laptop, several piles of papers, mail, a bag of doggie treats, a yoga video, and two used candles on the table. Lainey sat down and gently pushed a couple of piles of papers to her left to make room for her laptop and a yellow legal pad for notes.
Mary turned on her laptop and handed a larger manila file to Lainey.
“I didn’t know where to start, so here is what I have.”
Lainey opened the file. Inside were handwritten notes, printed papers, some sort of maps or drawings, and blurry reprinted receipts of something.
This is going to take some time.
“My goodness, Mary, this is a lot of information! Where did you find all this?”
“I started digging after our DNA results showed my brother, Douglas Reynolds, had a different mother than my sister and me.”
She got up from her chair, grabbed a pot of coffee that had been heating on the stove and two cups with a tractor stenciled on the front of each cup and the words Farmers Do It Best.
“Coffee?” Mary asked.
“Yes, please. Would you happen to have any coffee goop?” Lainey said without thinking. Noticing the puzzled look on Mary’s face, Lainey explained. “Sorry! Cream and sugar are what I call coffee goop.”
Mary handed Lainey another cup filled with sugar and creamer packets.
“Doug thinks this is silly, that I’m imagining all this. But it’s all here, plain as day.”
“This is a lot of information, Mary. Can you give me a summary or something before I dig into all of this?” Lainey asked, picking up her legal pad to make notes.
“DNA researching is big on learning about family trees. You know, a chart showing generations of mothers, fathers, siblings, your weird Uncle Ed.” Mary turned her laptop around to sho
w Lainey her family tree.
“My mother was Harriet Evans Reynolds. She and my dad, DeWayne, had three kids. Ann, my brother Doug, and me.”
Lainey answered as she began to write down names. “Can I take a picture of this screen? It will be easier for me than trying to write all this down again.”
Mary agreed and continued the conversation.
“When our DNA tests came back, Doug’s listed our mom as his step-mother. We didn’t believe it at first but have since confirmed it through one of Dad’s living relatives. It was a one-night stand kind of thing my Dad had right out of high school that happened a few weeks before he met my mother. The baby was born and left in my dad’s car one night. I guess the lady never told Dad or anyone. Dad told Mom and they raised the boy, my brother Doug, as their own.”
“Wow. What is the name of this one-night stand woman?”
Mary scrolled down her screen to a separate family tree chart. “Stella Baxter Sullivan.”
Lainey leaned closer, putting her reading glasses higher up on her nose as she examined the screen. She noticed a line marrying Stella Baxter to William Sullivan and four children under their names. None of them were named Douglas Reynolds.
“Mary, there seems to be four children by Stella and William. Looks like three of them are deceased. The only child living is a Raymond Baxter Sullivan. But I don’t see your brother Doug on here.”
“He’s not listed because he wouldn’t let us put him in there.”
Mary went on to say that members of these DNA ancestry registries share information with each other. Names and entire family trees can be added by anyone.
“One big reason for using these sites is that your results can be shared throughout the world based on similar DNA traits. It would be impossible to gather all this information on your own,” Mary explained.
“You mean that anyone can look at your DNA results?”
“Yes, but only if you have given them permission.”
Lainey sat back, sipped her luke-warm coffee, and thought for a minute, still trying to get an understanding of how all of this was adding up to murder.
“I still don’t see how this tree chart tells you someone is murdering people or how your brother is in danger.”
Lainey was hoping Mary had proof of some kind and that this was not a waste of time.
Mary looked at Lainey for several minutes, got up, and walked over to the refrigerator. On top was a set of three metal canisters of decreasing size, decorated with chickens. Mary took the middle one down and came back to the table.
“These were my mother’s pride and joy,” she stated, smiling as she pulled open the old metal lid carefully. “My family knows that no one touches these but me.” She added.
Gently, Mary lifted out a small sandwich baggie with something black inside it. She sat down the canister and handed Lainey the baggie.
Lainey’s curiosity was on high alert as she opened the baggie to find a black jump drive at the bottom.
“You have information saved on this jump drive about murder?” Lainey asked anxiously.
Mary lowered her voice and said, “I’ve saved a lot of information that I think proves someone is murdering the Sullivan family bloodline. I took this information to the police station, but they told me DNA research results was not proof enough that murder had been committed.”
Lainey didn’t know if Mary was disgusted, disgruntled, or simply tired of explaining her theories.
“When we talked earlier this week, Mary, you mentioned you had proof from a database used in criminal investigations.” Lainey reminded as she started plugged the jump drive into her laptop.
“Wait! Don’t install that here! Take it with you!” Mary instructed in a somewhat panicked voice. Lainey quickly put the drive back into the baggie and tucked it into her fanny pack.
“I’m sorry,” Mary began, “But I think you need to study that at your home.” She was looking toward the back door. “My brother is coming over for supper soon and I don’t want to upset him.”
“I will do that,” Lainey replied. “What database did you…” Lainey started to say but was interrupted.
“Oh, it’s all there.” Mary added standing up. “Doug will be here any minute. Call me later?”
“Of course. I look forward to talking with you soon!”
Lainey gathered her things, walked out the front door, and got back in her car. She started for home.
Something is going on with Mary and brother Doug.
“Why is this little black jump drive so important?” Lainey asked out loud.
Knowing she might have a long evening ahead, she decided to get a skinny mocha Frappuccino to keep her alert.
“Hello, Lainey!” Said a cheery voice in the drive-through speaker.
“How did you know it was me?”
“We have a camera on the speaker so we see you, but you can’t see us!” The young lady giggled. “Want a medium nonfat mocha Frap to go? No whip?”
“Yes, please.”
I come here way too often. She thought to herself, looking in the rearview mirror. “Holy cow.” She muttered out loud. “Really? Am I getting a double chin?”
She paid for the coffee, took a quick sip, and drove the rest of the way home.
Lainey hurried into the house, sat down at her work desk, and dug out the baggie with the black jump drive from her fanny pack. She loved the old roll-top desk that her dad had bought at some garage or estate sale years ago. It wasn’t the most comfortable desk, nor did it have a large desktop area. It was weathered by use and the roll-top no longer rolled up or down, but she could still see her dad sitting at the desk working or reading when she came home from school every day. That made her feel close to him.
“Twenty years and I still miss you, Dad.” Lainey sighed as she turned on her wireless keyboard.
Even as a young girl, Lainey was a thinker and often talked out loud or to herself when she was confused or needed to think things through. Her dad had said on many occasions that when his daughter mumbled to herself, people better watch out and move out of the way because she had figured out something.
“Okay, black jump drive,” she said as she inserted it into her MAC big screen monitor. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Lainey sat back in her chair waiting for the contents to appear on the screen. She didn’t know what to expect and was ready for many files or folders to pop up. She was pleasantly surprised that only two folders appeared. One was tagged Gen and the other Murder.
She quickly opened the Murder folder. There were four files listed: Karl Sullivan deceased, Eugene Sullivan deceased, Harold Sullivan deceased, and Raymond Sullivan. They were the children of Stella Baxter and William Sullivan.
More intrigued than ever, Lainey clicked on the file for Raymond Sullivan, thinking he might still be alive. As she reached over to take a sip of her coffee, a large picture filled the screen. Lainey gasped in disbelief dropping her mocha Frap all over her wireless keyboard.
“Poop!”
She sighed as she took a closer look at the picture. In full color, staring directly at her was the arrogant, salt and pepper-haired man she had bumped into and spilled coffee on last week.
“I can’t believe it!” She cried out as she grabbed the tissue box on the desk. “This guy made me spill my coffee… again!!”
After cleaning up her keyboard, Lainey sat back down to stare at the picture. It was a recent photo taken from an office. The floor to ceiling windows behind Raymond’s silhouette displayed a nighttime city skyline of Minneapolis that she recognized immediately. It was an area between the Stone Arch Bridge and Boom Island Park. The photo showcased the bridge, the lights of the tall buildings, and the Mississippi River.
“This office view must have cost you a pretty penny, Raymond.”
Clicking on the information tab listed below the photo, several file names appeared.
“I wonder if Mary added these files?” she questioned out loud and opened the file mark
ed Known Background.
As she began reading the information, she opened her Mac Notes file and began copying.
“Raymond Baxter Sullivan, fourth of four sons, born to Stella Baxter and William Sullivan.” Written in bold print and underlined, the next line read: “Son and only living heir of Sullivan’s Best Poultry empire.”
Lainey abruptly stopped reading. The Sullivan family was well-known throughout Minnesota, and Sullivan’s Best Poultry was one of the largest poultry operations in the United States.
She googled William Sullivan and found that he was considered to be a hard-working, ambitious man with self-taught business savvy. He began as a small turkey farmer. His determination, grit, and sometimes harsh or unethical business tactics had grown the company to include a dozen turkey processing plants, an army of poultry farmers to purchase from, a fleet of truck drivers who delivered their products, and several small retail outlets in the Minneapolis area.
“William most certainly made a few enemies while building his business. Did he make someone mad enough to commit murder?”
Lainey continued copying the information into her notes.
She returned back to Raymond’s file on the black jump drive.
“Raymond was born in 1965 and is now running the poultry empire.” That was the only other entry under his name.
Lainey closed the file and clicked on each of the three brothers’ files. As she read each siblings information, she copied it into her notes file.
Karl Sullivan, stillborn in 1958.
No murder committed here.
Eugene Sullivan, born 1960 and died in 2017. There was an attachment under this name. It stated he died in a car accident on Highway 12. No autopsy was performed, and it was declared to be an accidental death.
Lainey continued on to Harold Sullivan and silently read his information. He was born in 1962 and had died in early 2017 in a fish house accident. She knew ice fishing was common in the winter months and that at times accidents had occurred, but she needed more details. The entry stated no autopsy was performed.