Leslie Richardson If you google Donna’s name…you will see that is was reopened I think in 2005?
Kelly Gunstrum Mikelldorf > Leslie Richardson that’s a long time ago, has anybody in the family gotten updates on the new investigation?
Leslie Richardson I’m not sure
Kelly Gunstrum Mikelldorf It must be so heart wrenching because you know that other girl probably knows, both what happened and where to find her body.
Leslie Richardson I agree…the one that’s never been interviewed.
Kelly Gunstrum Mikelldorf > Leslie Richardson so weird, why not even the second time?
Leslie Richardson I’m not sure Kelly…I’ve not dug around enough
Robbie Gunstrum > Leslie Richardson some intriguing reading on Google! I see at least one of the boys is now deceased.
Roxette Marlim Unsolved murder cases are never closed. They may become stale due to lack of any new information to act on, but they are never closed.
Patty Brooks Think 2 of them r already dead & the ones left r not going to talk
Cherri Spencer they have all been interviewed more than once…
They have all had Polygraphs, and all have been questioned, all but 1 are still alive…these people and their families want closure just as much as the Richardsons.
Kaitlyn Tofield > Cherri Spencer If your so knowligible about his case, Cherri, why don’t you know that 2 them are still alive. 2 are dead.
Cherri Spencer > Kaitlyn Tofield Kenny’s still alive, Kaitlyn. He’s my second cousin. Cheryl’s still alive, but her husband Danny is dead. That other guy, Greg, I think he’s in prison somewhere. But they were all polygraphed. Just Cheryl never gave a statement.
Mickey Sue > Cherri Spencer why are people more concerned with her retelling the story? This all happened. It’s a fact. And someone knows something. If they don’t then they shouldn’t mind anyone trying to figure out what actually happened to Donna. The police don’t keep these cases in the spotlight so it’s up to people like Elizabeth to keep trying. Thanks Elizabeth for what you do and keeping this page alive with your articles.
Andrea Campbell > Cherri Spencer I never saw this article. Thank you for sharing it. It was Danny’s 30th birthday when he went in for the polygraph test.
Ellen Dubois Reminds me of the Christine Edwards scenario
Lyzette Barbara Addams > Ellen Dubois How so? That case was solved. Christine and a boy did their time. He was released years ago but I think she was denied parole a few times. Pretty sure she is on the outside now, lives under a new name (which I think she earned) and is raising her child.
Renee Labelle Is it possible she drowned or died of exposure?
Roxette Marlim > Renee Labelle there was a human chain almost a mile long – walking arm in arm. They found items that had been missing for many many years. Not a trace of my missing friend. Not a trace. My parents walked every day for over a week – I would love to have an answer.
Tommy shut the browser; he couldn’t read any more. It seemed like there was an on-going feud and no one had their facts straight. Everyone had a different story. He recognized quite a few of the surnames of people he grew up with, obviously many of them were related to the four young people who had been with Donna that day, and some were related to Donna. People could get really fired up defending their opinion, yet they all failed to recognize they were all only speculating. None of them knew the truth. Only Kenny and Cheryl and Greg, wherever the hell he was now. But one of the posts had provoked something in Tommy’s mind whoever came in that car knows what happened to her. There was no car, cover up story. He would definitely follow up with Kenny on that lead.
Frustrated that this search had not netted anything bigger, Tommy flipped through his notes trying to decide what to do next. Only Kenny, Cheryl and Greg know the truth, so that’s what I’m sticking to, the truth. Tommy decided to pay a visit to Cheryl Walker Campbell.
Chapter Seven
Cheryl unlocked the door and stared at him through the crack across the chain that still separated them. Tommy could tell she was trying to decide if she wanted to let him in or not, even though she had invited him to come over when he had phoned earlier.
“I brought ice cream,” Tommy said holding up a bag that contained two chocolate sundaes. Cheryl looked at the bag, then back at Tommy and finally pulled the chain and stood back to open the door enough to allow his entry. The room smelled of stale smoke and several ashtrays were scattered around, spilling over with ashes and butts.
“We can sit on the patio,” Cheryl said and walked across the living room to a glass door. She slid it open and walked outside, not waiting for Tommy. He made his way to join her taking in the humble, yet tasteful décor, and sank down into an overstuffed cushioned patio chair. Cheryl sat directly across from him on a swing, already smoking. A clean ashtray sat by her feet. “Whadda ya wanna know, Tommy?”
He was unsure how to start, “What are you willing to tell me about the day Donna went missing?” He opened the bag and handed Cheryl one of the sundaes, then took the other out for himself. She set hers on the patio next to the ashtray.
“What did Kenny tell you?” Cheryl asked.
“Just what you all told the police originally.”
“I didn’t tell them nothin’.” Cheryl almost spat it out, “Fuckers treated us like garbage. I stayed in the car. That Sergeant Schmidt came out to talk to me, but I couldn’t even talk. I just ignored him, and he finally went back inside.”
“They didn’t force you to give a statement?” Tommy did not see how she would get away with that.
“A statement of what? The guys told the police Donna went missing. There was no crime. I didn’t do nothing wrong. All they got is a case of a missing person. There’s absolutely no evidence that any one of us did anything. Well, except if you include the drugs the boys sold, but that was a separate issue. I had nothing to say to them.” Cheryl took a drag off her cigarette then stubbed out the butt in the ashtray and lit another one. “The article in the paper a week later had a quote from that bastard, Schmidt. Something about us all being from the wrong side of the tracks. My dad told me I didn’t ever have to talk to them. Schmidt kept calling though. I think he called my house every day, maybe twice a day. I ended up getting so stressed out I had to go into the hospital for a few weeks. PTSD I think you would call it nowadays.”
Tommy had known that Cheryl had been hospitalized. It was a mental health center and he had heard she had been there almost a year, not just a few weeks. Should I press her? Would she be able to handle it? “Cheryl, what happened to Donna?” There, I’ve said it.
“We promised each other we wouldn’t say,” Wow, there it is, Tommy thought. “I didn’t give no statement because I can’t lie. I just can’t. So, I didn’t say nothin’.” Cheryl’s eyes brimmed but she did not cry. She took another long drag and continued. “Tommy, something real bad happened up at that lake, but I’m not going to be the one to tell you. If I say it out loud, then it’s true, and I don’t think I can take that. Donna was my best friend. Still is, in some ways. I used to drive out there sometimes to…talk to her.”
“To the lake?” Tommy asked, “because that’s the last place you saw her?”
“Because that’s where she is,” Cheryl responded, “in the lake.”
“But…Cheryl, they’ve dragged that lake twice. There is nothing in the lake.” Tommy was concerned now that Cheryl was making things up.
Cheryl stared at Tommy for a few minutes seeming to evaluate him, “I guess I just need some way to keep Donna close to me, Tommy. Like a touchstone.” Cheryl butted out the cigarette and lit another, “Let’s talk about something else now.”
He was still processing this information. After all these years…almost 55 years…this was more than anyone had said about Donna’s whereabouts. Maybe he could get Kenny to open up about it tomorrow. “Your car…”
“My car? What about my car?”
“I mean the Bel Air. I saw it at Ke
nny’s.”
“Oh yeah, that car. I sold it to him. Went I got back from…the hospital…I couldn’t even look at that car anymore. Too many good memories…too many bad ones. Kenny liked to tinker with cars; when he got out of jail…you know that he and Danny went to jail for the drugs, right? He offered to buy it from me. I think he paid me way more than it was worth. Not sure if he ever did fix it up or anything. I never seen him driving it.”
“What about the cops? Did they search it?”
“What for?” Cheryl looked surprised.
“Evidence, in case there was a crime.” Tommy tried to be gentle.
“Tommy, I forgot until right now…” Cheryl perked up and looked directly at Tommy, “the guys told the police we took Kenny’s truck up to the lake. I wasn’t sure why they would say that, but I never told anyone any different. Schmidt searched the hell out of that truck. They never even asked about my car. Not that there’s anything to see in it, but the guys somehow wanted to make sure we told them it was the truck we took. You know, after that night, I never got into that car again. Just sat on our driveway until Kenny bought it from me, like almost a year later.” And now it’s been sitting under a canvas garage in Kenny’s yard for over 50 years, Tommy thought. Another question for Kenny tomorrow.
“Tommy?” Cheryl’s voice was now a little shaky, “Do you think there’s something in the car…you know…?”
“Something that would tell us what happened to Donna?” Cheryl just nodded eyes wide.
“Maybe…but I have no idea what it would be,” Tommy contemplated Cheryl for a minute or two, trying to figure out if she knew there was something in the car. To him, she just looked scared. Plus, he didn’t think she was completely mentally stable, and he had to consider that with everything she said to him. Who knows what’s true and what she’s been making up in her mind over the years?
“Cheryl, you know that the case was reopened in 2005, right?” Tommy asked, wondering if she had been questioned again.
“Yeah, another cop, what’s his name…Lewis, Sergeant Lewis, called me to take a polygraph. You know, a lie detector test? I just let the call go to the answering machine. Never called back. Guess he didn’t really want to know that bad, eh?” Cheryl let out a raspy little laugh with a snort. “Danny was already dead by that time – he died in 1978, so, no interview for him.” Cheryl laughed again, “and Greg. That fucker!” Now her face turned grim.
“Did Sergeant Lewis interview him, too?”
“Yeah, but he was in jail then. I hoped he’d rot in hell, but I heard he got out a couple of years ago.”
“His story was the same? Did he also take a polygraph?”
“His story? His story changed every time they talked to him, so I’ve been told…or read in the paper. Last I heard, he claimed Donna was his girlfriend, at least by the end of the picnic, and he said they had consensual sex. Yeah right! Who knows if that’s even what he said, but that’s what the story in the paper said. Said Donna and Kenny had a fight after that, and she ran away.”
“And the polygraph?” Tommy prodded.
“Failed. Said he was lying.” Cheryl shook the last cigarette out of her pack and put it to her dry, cracked lips. “I don’t wanna think about that creep anymore. I think you better go, Tommy. I’m getting tired.”
She did look tired…and broken. Tommy stood and reached out to shake Cheryl’s hand, but she waved him away, “Don’t shake. Don’t like to touch people.” She said. He looked down by her feet, where the sundae had melted, untouched. Her ashtray was now full.
“Well, Cheryl, thank you for what you have talked to me about. I can see myself out.” Tommy walked through the glass door across the tidy living room and left through the front door. Cheryl did not turn around.
*
Laying his keys on the bureau, Tommy looked around this little motel room. It was too late to go anywhere; most places in this town were closed, except the bar, and that was definitely not the scene for a 75-year-old retired reporter. He laid on the bed and booted up his laptop, then began a search for newspaper articles on the Richardson case. There were hundreds.
He scrolled through several trying to figure out what he’d missed, making notes to follow up with Kenny the next day. Kenny had not been looking too good when Tommy left, but he had assured him he wanted to talk the next day. A link appeared on the google search. It was not the original story from 1965, but it included content and quotes from the very week of Donna’s disappearance. Tommy clicked on it.
“After 50 years it’s difficult to wade through the rumors, speculation and outright lies on a file such as this,” Sergeant Lewis said, adding he does not intend to give up on this mysterious case. Donna’s case is a topic that has repeatedly stirred up hot debate, rumor, at times hatred, especially in the small town where so many people are related to both the missing person and the people who were with her that day.
Jumbled facts tossed together over the years form to create an unfinished, blurry puzzle of what really happened that day. Some accuse the young men that Donna was last seen with of being responsible for her disappearance, or perhaps her best friend, who was also there that day. Some say she was picked up by a passing car, and others say she ran away into the bush.
Despite the finger-pointing and varying theories, no one has ever been criminally charged in relation to the case. Only those who were there that day know what really happened, and none of them seem to be talking any more.
Sergeant Schmidt, the original investigator on this case was quoted as saying, “These kids are all from the poor side of the tracks; the wrong side, some people might say, but you never can tell. If being poor is wrong, then I guess it’s the wrong side. But that doesn’t make them bad. Or does it?” Known for his innuendos intended to stir up gossip, Schmidt could usually get people to talk to him about anything. In this case, all he did was cause more of a rift between neighbors and families in this conservative little town. A rift that has lasted more than 50 years.
Tommy knew what this town was like and could well believe that people would take sides. A town full of redneck bullies as he remembered. Well, not all of them – I did have some good friends here as well.
Kenny and Danny were two of them. Even though they had come from poorer families and they were always scheming on how to make money, legal or not, they had welcomed Tommy into their little tribe. He had been fondly referred to as ‘the smart one’. Friends since first grade, they used Tommy’s brain to count money, cheat at cards, and calculate the number of days until graduation. He also read to them. Mostly science fiction. They had started with the Jules Verne classics and of course Bram Stoker’s Dracula but had graduated to The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury and later The End of Eternity by Isaac Asimov. He held his friends rapt with classic tales including H.G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds, Animal Farm and The Lord of the Flies, two of George Orwell’s best just made for young minds trying to figure out the world. Tommy would balance their interest with the amazing tales of The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper and Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe. If anything, Tommy was a more nurturing part of these young hooligans’ lives. In repayment, Kenny and Danny had been Tommy’s protectors; at least when they were with him. When Tommy was alone, that was another story.
Shaking his head, Tommy came back from his memory to the article in front of him. Reading on, he gathered that Sergeant Schmidt had some biases and perhaps had not been that fair in his treatment of the young men. Problem was, Schmidt had never discovered any evidence that would lead to criminal charges, so instead, he pursued the drug charges, hoping he could put these men away for years. Schmidt had not bothered, or so it seemed, to pursue Cheryl for additional information. She would never talk anyhow.
Scrolling through the search results, Tommy came across another story written only a few years after the original incident. It mentioned a fire near the Lilac Lake, where Donna had gone missing. To be exact, it was actually a pile of burni
ng wood scraps, more like a campfire, which had burned in a nearby meadow, over the hill and past the forest from the lake side. While the search for Donna had ensued, the sawmill workers had come across this fire. It had not been included in the original police report, although people who attended the fire site on the day of the search told Sergeant Schmidt about seeing boot and shoe prints around the fire site; more than were found in the area Donna was reportedly last seen.
There was a second article that mentioned the fire as well, this one written in 2007, after the cold case had been reopened. Sergeant Lewis said he would be conducting an archeological dig at the site of the fire. Tommy searched for another half hour but could not find any articles to indicate if that dig had ever been performed nor what the results might have been.
Tommy made another note and closed the laptop. Lying on the bed he glanced at the clock on the side table. Almost midnight. He was not tired, and his mind was racing. It was too late to call Betse. Maybe I’ll hit the pub after all, Tommy decided. He got up and washed his face and changed his clothes, then threw on a light jacket and locked the motel room. The pub was only a couple of blocks down and he decided to walk.
Chapter Eight
There were a lot of people in the pub for a mid-weeknight after midnight, but Tommy was not that surprised. Redneck town, lots of drinkers. He sat down at the bar and ordered an Old Fashioned.
“What the fuck’s an Ol’ Fashioned?” the bartender smirked and cleaned the counter in front of Tommy with a rag that looked like it hadn’t been washed since 1989, “Jus’ kiddin’. We don’t get many folks asking for that ‘round here, so I ain’t got any bitters. But I can make you a rye and coke with a maraschino cherry and a slice o’ orange.”
That was acceptable to Tommy and the bartender left to mix the drink. A local sat down on the stool next to him and Tommy recognized him right away; Virgil Spencer, the lead bully from his high-school years. Tommy nodded and looked down at the drink the bartender set in front of him, hoping Virgil would not recognize him.
The Girl in the Lake Page 5