The Family Tree Murders

by Laura Hern

  He motioned for her to walk over to the middle section of the room.

  “The racks are where bodies are put when they arrive. Each bag is clearly marked with several identification tags and authorization forms are checked,” Paul began.

  “There are many forms to sign and procedures to follow with which the state requires our compliance. We treat each body with respect. Either another funeral director or I read the reports and then prepare the body as requested.”

  “What do you mean by prepare the body?”

  “We must remove any objects such as pace makers, metal objects, or IV lines that might explode inside the retort when heated. There have been accidents where explosions inside retorts or during the process of removing the remains have killed workers.”

  Lainey nodded, but her gaze was fixed on a wall directly in front of her. The wall had two large steel door openings that were each 6 feet wide and at least 5 feet tall. The doors were centered between the floor and the top of the wall. Bricks surrounded each door. It reminded Lainey of outdoor patio ovens.

  Paul continued. “You are looking at the retorts or ovens. These are where the cremation process takes place. We are not standing close to either retort, but can you feel heat coming from them?”

  “Yes, from the one of the right,” Lainey answered.

  “The retorts heat to 2,000 degrees as required by state law. The one on the right is in the cooling down period,” Paul explained. “When the retort is being used, the heat radiating from inside makes it impossible to get too close.”

  Lainey walked toward her left. “And what is that area?”

  “Once the required cool down time has passed, the door is opened carefully, and the container holding the remains slides out. There is a door, if you will, under each container. That is opened and the remains are sifted through the screen into the sterile bag.”

  Lainey said sheepishly, “You mean the ashes of the person?”

  “Well, yes, most of them.” Paul answered. “There are larger things, pieces of bone, fillings and such, that are not completely cremated during the process. These are removed through a second, larger door at the end of the body container. There are strict rules for disposing of these items as well. They are put in a pulverizer-type machine then discarded.”

  “Discarded?” Lainey looked at Paul. “How?”

  “It sounds a bit harsh, but the remaining residue from the pulverizer is vacuumed out with a shop vac and thrown away.” He watched for the shocked look to appear on Lainey’s face. Everyone that heard that for the first time was shocked. He didn’t have to wait long.

  “Oh dear!” Lainey gasped. “Thrown away?”

  “Yes, we have to dispose of them and clean all the equipment as much as we can.”

  Lainey thought for a minute and suddenly her thoughts were crystal clear. “That makes it virtually impossible to trace objects or do bone DNA testing, doesn’t it?”

  Paul nodded. “Yes, it does.”

  They left the retort area and walked down the hallway to Paul’s office.

  “Were you the one who prepared both of the Sullivan’s for cremation?” Lainey asked as soon as Paul sat down.

  Paul looked a bit surprised. “Actually, according to the medical and coroner’s reports, there were no objects to consider removing. Lainey, I want to tell you again that nothing looked out of the ordinary. I did prepare both of those bodies.”

  “I see.”

  She sat with her back against the chair as Della came back into the office.

  “Did you give her the creamery tour?” Della asked as she kissed the top of Paul’s head. Lainey laughed out loud.

  “It’s not a creamery Della… It’s a crematory,” Paul chuckled a bit.

  “Oh, well, you know what I meant,” Della smiled.

  “Paul was great, and I learned a lot.”

  Paul stood. “Ladies, I do have another appointment. If I can help you, Lainey, please call me. Della, my love, I’ll see you at home around seven.”

  Lainey and Della left the funeral home and stopped to talk at Lainey’s car.

  “Well?” Della asked. “You still think murder?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I certainly do.” Lainey said confidently. “I plan on telling Sarge this evening about my findings and see what he has to say.”

  Della nodded. “Call me. I’m eager to hear!”

  Lainey drove home and had a couple of hours before she was to meet Sarge. Something Paul said was nagging at her.

  “IV lines if a person had been ill,” she said aloud.

  She started her computer and when the Google search page loaded, she clicked on the microphone icon and said, “Medical devices that must be removed before cremation.”

  Thousands of links appeared, and Lainey spent the next hour reading through them. She found an education link that dealt with funeral director training for cremation procedures. The link included a list of commonly used chemical materials that needed to be removed when preparing a body.

  Searching through the alphabetic listing of the materials and other treatments given to terminally ill patients, her eyes and her mind focused on one entry.

  “Fentanyl patches,” Lainey said to herself.

  Last night’s news had a segment on these patches and linked them to several accidental deaths. I need more information.

  Looking at her watch and realizing she had to leave for her meeting with Sarge, she quickly printed out the pages relating to the patches.

  “Let’s see what he says about this!” Lainey put the printed pages into her already bulging folder.

  She walked into the police station on the dot of 8 p.m. The receptionist buzzed Sarge, who came to the front to meet her.

  They walked down the hallway toward his office. “Look familiar?”

  Lainey was startled.

  Had he seen her last evening? Why would he ask that?

  “I’m not sure I have been in the back of the station before,” she commented, hoping to not sound like she was lying.

  They walked into his office and he pointed at a chair directly in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Lainey.”

  Suddenly, Lainey felt like she was being interrogated and her senses went on high alert.

  Think before you speak.

  She smiled and waited for Sarge to say something. It seemed like hours before he said, “Francy said this was about the Sullivan cases.”

  Taking a breath, Lainey began. “I know you told me that nothing looked suspicious, but I think I have evidence that might change your mind.”

  She waited for his reaction. His swivel chair squeaked as he leaned back and looked at her. “I assume this evidence is in the folder you are holding?” he asked.

  Lainey nodded and opened the folder to find the fentanyl patch papers, and handed them to him.

  “No, I want to see the entire folder.”

  Lainey felt trapped. She knew the police report copies were still in the folder and once Sarge saw them, she was caught.

  She hesitated, put the printed pages back and hoped that honesty would somehow lessen the trouble she might be in as she handed Sarge the folder.

  “I came here last evening with Francy’s Mom and got copies of the police reports for the Sullivan cases.” Her chest felt heavy and she tried to breath slowly to calm down.

  Sarge didn’t respond and took what seemed like hours to look through the folder.

  “I met with Paul Kristiansen today and he explained to me the cremation process. Since both bodies were cremated, there is no way to do any further testing.”

  Sarge looked at her, nodded, and looked back down at the papers without saying a word. Lainey knew that Law Enforcement officials used the quiet treatment many times to make suspects nervous enough to start talking and incriminate themselves. In fact, she had done that at times while investigating a case.

  She decided to wait him out.

  I’m not saying anything until he speaks first.

  She leaned
back in her chair and crossed her arms in front of her determinedly.

  Minutes passed and Lainey tried not to fidget or move at all. Finally, Sarge leaned forward in his chair and put the folder on his desk. He was holding a few papers in his hand. He looked directly at Lainey.

  “I saw your car when I came to let you in and knew it was the same car Vera supposedly borrowed last evening. I don’t know you very well, but I do know and respect Francy. She wouldn’t put herself in danger by helping you if she didn’t feel there was some merit in your concerns.”

  “And everyone loves Vera, but normally when she brought treats to the office, she and Francy were planning a vacation and needed approval for the days off,” he continued, and a small smile appeared on his face.

  “I am not pleased that you found the reports and took copies from this office. But since technically you did not break in, I’m going to overlook it this time,” he scolded.

  Lainey felt her shoulders relax a bit. Whether it was nerves or a bad sense of comedic timing, she instantly replied, “But didn’t Vera’s goodies taste great?”

  Sarge put down the papers he was holding and after a second, smiled. “Yes, they always are.”

  “Help me tie your notes, the reports, and cremation details together with Fentanyl patches,” he stated.

  Lainey let out a big breath. “On the police reports, do you see that Doug Reynolds and Chuck Austin were body drivers on both cases?”

  Sarge nodded.

  “Do you know that Nathan Austin, the investigator from the coroner’s office on both cases, is the brother of Chuck Austin?” she asked.

  He didn’t respond.

  Lainey continued. “Chuck Austin is the boyfriend of Ann Reynolds, Doug’s youngest sister.”

  With that bit of news, Sarge spoke up. “I see. No, I was not aware of that relationship.” He again sat back in his chair in deep thought.

  “Lainey, if there is something suspicious in these cases, the information you shared seems to implicate Doug Reynolds as well.”

  Lainey tried to put all her findings in a brief summary for Sarge. She began telling him about Ann’s disabilities, Doug’s guilt about the accident that killed their father, and how dependent Ann seems to be on Doug’s financial support.

  She also pointed to the family notes stating that Doug and the Sullivan brothers had met, became somewhat friends, and that Ann had asked for a job for Doug. She ended by saying that Doug was very upset with Ann and refused to take any money from the Sullivan family.

  “I spoke with Ann today and not only was she unfriendly, she was arrogant and abrupt. When Chuck Austin came into the room and ordered me to leave, Ann immediately called Doug,” Lainey explained.

  Sarge had been listening intently and replied. “If, and I’m not saying there is, but if one or more of these people are involved in the deaths of Eugene and Harold, how do you tie in the patches?” he asked.

  “When I talked to Paul, he mentioned that bodies have to be prepared for cremation and all metal objects like pacemakers and metal plates have to be removed by the mortician in order to prevent explosions during the heating period.” She hoped that Sarge might be impressed with her knowledge.

  “I know that.” Sarge replied. “But that doesn’t tie in to the patches.”

  “Paul said that medical IV’s and other devices on a body would also be removed. The pages I printed out from a reputable source said that Fentanyl patches are highly toxic even after being used or stuck to the skin.”

  He nodded. “We have dealt with reported deaths of children, pets, and drug addicts being exposed to the powder or gel on these type of patches. Some terminal cancer patients will put too many patches on in order to end their suffering. Death occurs within a short time even with very minimal exposure to this substance.”

  Lainey smiled and asked. “With all this, would you say there is enough evidence to perhaps open the case for further investigation?”

  Sarge shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We would need more concrete proof that a person or persons had access to these patches and used them to somehow poison both Sullivan brothers. As it stands right now, none of your evidence would fly in court. A defense attorney would have this all thrown out as hearsay and theory.”

  Lainey frowned. “I need more proof,” she said softly.

  “I will say that there are many coincidences in these cases,” Sarge said thoughtfully. “But where or what is the hard evidence?”

  “I’ll find it.”

  “Lainey, I have to caution you that you are not protected under the law as there is no legal investigation going on. And if these two deaths were murder and not accidental, the guilty parties are not going to be pleased with you snooping around.”

  Lainey had already thought of that. “Can you help me?”

  Sarge paused a long while. “I’ll do a little investigating off the record for you and that’s it. Francy said you were a good investigator and I can see that you are determined. I remind you not to break the law and want you to promise you will call me BEFORE you get yourself involved in a possibly dangerous situation. I’m not joking, Lainey. Call me first.”

  “I promise to keep you updated on anything I find.”

  Sarge nodded in agreement. Lainey thanked him and stood up to leave.

  As she reached the door, Sarge added another warning that chilled Lainey to the bone.

  “Call me FIRST.” He emphasized his last word so hard, a few spit dots spewed out of his mouth and floated down to the floor.

  “I will, I will,” she assured him.

  Once again, Lainey could not sleep. Was she jumping to ludicrous conclusions that somehow Ann and the Austin’s had committed the murders? Or was it simply a coincidence of the brothers’ deaths and the contemptuous attitude of Ann and her boyfriend? Was Doug involved, too?

  It was 6:30 a.m. She drove to the coffee house and headed back home. As she sat in front of her computer, she thought aloud.

  “Think, Lainey! How could Chuck get his hands on Fentanyl patches? And how could the Sullivan brothers be exposed to them?”

  Hours passed as she searched online, made notes, and drank her coffee. Sarge had said she needed hard evidence and she knew she would need help to get that type of evidence. Her thoughts turned to Mary. If anyone was likely to help her, it might just be Mary.

  She picked up the phone and called Mary’s cell.

  “Hello,” Mary answered. “Is this Lainey?”

  “Why, yes, it is. Did my name appear on your phone?” Lainey asked.

  “I added you to my phone contacts,” Mary said. “I only answer calls if I know the person’s name. Have you found something to help Doug?”

  “I have a theory, and have spoken with the police department, but I need to find hard evidence before they can do anything more,” Lainey began. “And I think I can do that with your help.”

  “What do you need me to do?” Mary eagerly asked.

  “I have to warn you, Mary, that it could be dangerous if we are caught and I’m not sure we would have police support if they knew what we were doing. Do you still want to help me?”

  “If it will help Doug, yes.”

  “Okay. I do think that Ann, Chuck, and perhaps his brother, Nathan, are involved in the Sullivan brothers’ deaths. What I want to do is get into Chuck’s garage and see if I can find the evidence I need.”

  “You mean schedule an appointment with him to fix your car or something?”

  “Not exactly. When I talked with Ann, Chuck came into the house while I was there. He knows my face and who I am. He would find it suspicious if I call to have my car repaired,” Lainey replied. “I’ve got to get in after dark or when the shop is empty.”

  “I see,” Mary said slowly. “And how do you want me to help you?”

  “How often does Ann leave the house? I mean does she go shopping or out to eat?” Lainey asked.

  “You know that I am not close to Ann.“

  “Do you know anyth
ing about Chuck’s activities? When he has errands or might be out of the shop?” Lainey continued, writing down notes.

  “My friend is a waitress at the VFW in town and says Chuck comes there about 6 p.m. every night when he is not on a call from the coroner’s office. He’s a regular.”

  “Great. Do you think you could get Ann away from the house tonight at the same time Chuck is at the VFW?”

  Mary was silent.

  Lainey continued. “I know you don’t get along, but is there anything you can do to get her away from the house while I get into the garage and look around?”

  Lainey could hear Mary sigh. “I can’t promise to get her out of the house, but I can try to get her distracted enough not to notice anything in the shop,” Mary said.

  “May I ask how?” Lainey said.

  “I’ll go to her house unexpectedly a little after 6 to talk with her about Doug’s life insurance policy. She will let me in to talk about that.”

  Lainey’s ears perked up. “Doug’s life insurance policy?”

  “Yes, Ann and I are Doug’s beneficiaries. Ann has been after me to sign over my half to her. I’ll tell her I’m ready to talk about that.” Mary’s voice sounded angry as she mentioned Ann’s name.

  Lainey’s thoughts went to how much inheritance Doug would receive now that he was a Sullivan relative and her goose bumps returned. Lainey suddenly realized that she needed to be cautious around Mary, too. Even half of the Sullivan estate would be a huge fortune.

  “I know it will be difficult, but this could provide us with evidence,” Lainey said.

  “I’m doing this for Doug and no one else,” Mary said determinedly.

  Lainey thought for a moment. “Okay. We’ll go to Ann’s house. When you go inside to talk with her, I’ll slip over to the shop and look around.”

  “Want me to pick up you around 5:30?” Mary asked.

  Lainey had been trained to always leave herself another way out of any situation, and riding in Mary’s car would make her completely dependent on Mary. “I’ll drive over to your house and follow you to Ann’s. I can park down the road and never be seen.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you here by 5:30.”

  Lainey clicked off her phone. Her instinct was to call Sarge and let him know of her plan, but she thought better of that. “It’s better to ask for forgiveness after the fact than try to get permission beforehand.” She chuckled to herself.