by Kit DeCanti
Cindy stiffly replied; “Well, once the clients are admitted, I don’t see much of them.”
“How about her intake form… who did she list as an emergency contact person?” After giving it a moments thought, Cindy walked nervously over to a row of file cabinets, and opened the “W” drawer. She flipped through the files, and then looked puzzled.
“That’s strange,” she said. “It doesn’t seem to be here.” Then she quickly added, “Perhaps it was misfiled.” She began searching through other drawers.
“Does that happen often?” Ron asked. “No! Certainly not,” she assured him.
She didn’t have to assure Ron- he was convinced- and just as convinced that it was no accident that the file was missing. Ron was now sure it was in the briefcase, the doctor had been carrying last week in the parking lot.
Knowing people talk more when they are nervous, Ron asked, “Well, Cindy, do you remember Heather ever mentioning a name or place where her family might be found?”
“Umm, at group the only thing I ever remember her saying is that she never planned on going home again- ever!” Ron was quick to pounce on that, “Group? You sat in on the group?” She was just the receptionist, not a therapist or counselor. She must have also been a patient.
Cindy looked away.
Ron walked closer and looked her right in the eyes, and said, “Look! If you have any information at all that could help us locate her family...”
The young woman shrunk back in fear.
Realizing he was coming on too strong, Ron changed tones, “Even though she killed herself, she deserves to have her body claimed and a proper burial.” Cindy’s demeanor quickly changed, “No- we are going to… I mean… I’m sure someone will take care of her.” Then she said, “Look! Dr. Fleming is out of town, and he is the one you should be talking to!”
“I’d like to talk to a friend of Heather’s. Someone who can help me understand what happened to her. Someone who knows what could have made her feel that suicide was the only solution.” Tears sprang to the corner of Cindy’s eyes; she quickly blinked them away. Ron continued, “The problem is, it’s been a week, and I haven’t found one person who was close enough to be considered a friend.” He waited.
“I was her friend,” Cindy finally said quietly. “We were all her friends, here. She should never have left here. If only she would have called me!” The emphasis Cindy put on ‘me’, made Ron feel that she had knowledge of Heather reaching out to someone. But who?
He didn’t think Cindy would give him anymore information. Nor was he ready to talk to the doc’s assistant; he was pretty sure that she would be ready for him, with prepared statements and answers.
Ron opened the office door and stepped back into the lobby, as if intending to leave. Cindy relaxed, until he said, “I think I’ll walk around a bit. See if I can talk to more of Heather’s friends here. One of them may know how to contact her family.” The worried wrinkle returned to Cindy’s forehead and brow.
Deputy Simmons had never been so passionate about anything in his life. The thought of this young girl giving up on life so young- he just was not convinced that it was a suicide… and all those tranquilized water bottles turning up in the same place; all with the doc’s finger prints on them. He knew something was fishy. And he was certain that someone here knew something.
The clues were here somewhere. He just had to find them.
Ron walked through the glass sliding doors at the back of the reception lobby area that led to the pavilion. Several people dressed in sweat suits were eating at tables off to the left. Smiling, he approached them. After a few friendly exchanges, he asked if any of them knew Heather Williams. The faces went sad. It was obvious that they either knew her, or had heard about her death. He sat down, and spoke consolingly. The last thing he wanted was to add to their problems. And if they were here, they had problems.
Ron gently asked if anyone had any idea where Heather came from before landing in Lake County. One young man said he heard her speak of a mall she used to like to hang out in. “Valley something,” he said looking as if he wished he knew more. Then, he said, “She was orphaned. Her dad was rich.” A sheepish young girl added, “She had a mean uncle. She hated him!” “Yeah!” said another guy, “I don’t know why, but she really got heated up when she talked about her uncle. She said that no way would she stay there waiting for her 21st birthday- the money wasn’t worth it. I heard she even walked away from her inheritance.”
“That might explain the family law books found in her room,” thought Ron. He strolled around, stopping to chat with others he met on the grounds. He found the rest of the patients were just as candid, but he didn’t learn much more; except that when Heather first arrived at the retreat her assigned cabin was with the former patient- turned- receptionist, Cindy. He glanced over to the lobby and caught Cindy watching through the sliding doors. When she saw him looking her way, she stepped away from the door. “She’s the key to this, I can feel it.” Now it was the furrow between Ron’s brows that deepened.
By the time Ron returned to the reception area, Cindy was nowhere to be seen; but a stern faced woman was waiting for him.
“I’m Dr. Fleming’s assistant, and I really can’t allow you to disturb our patients,” the doc’s assistant said flatly. “If you try that again, you’ll leave me no choice but to make a formal complaint.” Ron smiled, using his good looks and all the charm he could muster. He never met a plain Jane yet that wouldn’t soften with a little charm.
Until now. She remained firm.
Ron tried the same approach that worked with Cindy, “Look, I’m just trying to find her family so someone can claim the body….”
“Well I assure you, you are looking in the wrong place. You need to leave now!”
As Ron drove back to the station, he wondered how he was going to be able to get down to the Bay Area this week. He was pretty sure he knew the name of the mall where Heather would have hung out. Someone there might know her. Maybe they could track some credit card purchases or charges. Somehow, he needed to get down there and canvas the malls.
Suddenly, a Jeep Wrangler came flying out from the brush, right in front of him interrupted his thoughts! Swerving to miss it, his patrol car fish-tailed, almost sending him off the road himself.
The laughing 4-wheeling teen’s faces went white when they saw who they almost hit.
In short order, Ron had the sixteen-year-old twin boys in the back of his patrol car, and was waiting for a tow truck for their Jeep. He saw nothing funny or fun about reckless driving and the total lack of concern for other people’s lives. He thought about the pain his mother suffered as she lay in the hospital after the auto accident that ultimately was responsible for her death.
That, too had been the result of teens out for a good time.
He was in a somber mood by the time he reached the station to write up the report, and wait for the boys parents. They weren’t happy about having to leave work and drive up from Cupertino to pick up their twins. “Hmm… Cupertino,” Ron mumbled to himself. An idea began to formulate, giving him hope. He checked his watch, and calculated how much time he had before the parent’s arrival. It’d be close, but if he hurried he could swing it.
By the time the reckless twins parents arrived Ron was ready. He led them to a desk to wait for their sons to be brought out. On top of the desk he had placed a stack of fliers, (that he had just barely finished printing) in clear view with the words “DO YOU KNOW THIS GIRL? She is known to have spent time in the Bay Area malls.” It had a picture of Heather Williams and Lenny’s trac phone number as a contact number. After a long, stern lecture about teaching children responsibility and concern for others; he told the nervous parents that when the boys went to court, it would go better for them if they had some evidence of reaching out to help others. The mother picked up the flier, and asked, “Would distributing fliers be considered community service?”
Ron nodded and smiled. Problem solved. This prob
lem anyway.
Ron picked up the phone to get the final results of the Williams’ autopsy; the lab said they would fax it over, but told him the latest update. The body had been claimed.
Ron was stunned. He was even more surprised to hear that it was released to a local mortuary.
He dialed the mortuary, and was told that an anonymous donor had paid cash for all arrangements, leaving the decisions for the funeral home to make.
Ron walked to the fax machine, just as the autopsy report was coming through.
More surprises. The examination showed that Heather Williams had given birth at least once. The computer matched her picture to a missing person from the Bay area.
Heather Williams was actually Heather Logan; daughter of the deceased William Logan- founder of Logan Software. William Logan and his wife, Loretta, were killed in a small plane accident; and Heather would have inherited over thirteen million dollars on her 21st birthday. Until then her mother’s sister and brother-in-law, Ralph and Clara Henderson, were named the girl’s guardians and trustees of the estate.
Clara Henderson died shortly after Heather’s parents.
Ralph had reported Heather missing almost a year ago. No mention of the whereabouts of her child.
Ron went to his computer, and did a statewide search for live births within the last five years, mother’s name Heather Logan. No hits. He tried Heather Williams. Another dead-end.
Lenny walked by, and said loud enough for others to hear, “Ya gunna milk this 4-wheelin’ thing all day, Rookie?” and then even louder, “Taxpayers pay you to be out there serving and protecting. Get your rear end outta that chair, and behind the wheel.”
Ron’s face reddened. He knew Lenny was ‘play house ninet-ying’; but it still stung. He left the squad room trying to ignore the smirks.
He got in his squad car and drove towards the lake. The spring storm that had been gathering since midmorning finally unloaded on Lake County. The huge drops falling on the roadways were sure to cause some spinouts. Ron stayed alert, and ready to respond to any radio alerts. He didn’t have to wait long.
The lake seemed to be mirroring his mood. Large waves crashed against the shores, splashing on the roadway as the patrol car sped along Lakeshore Boulevard, lights flashing and siren blaring. The rain was coming down faster than the windshield wipers could wipe it away. The young deputy relied on his training to get to the accident scene without being in one himself. As he arrived, he frowned. It was a bad one.
A car had spun out, ending upside down, and nosed into the lake, surrounded by pampas grass and bamboo blowing in the storm, as if waving for help.
Ron leaped out of the patrol car, leaving it in the middle of the road with lights flashing. A bleeding woman was pounding on the car window, screaming that her baby was still inside. Without thinking Ron splashed into the water; using his Billy club, he broke the window. The baby’s head was barely out of the rising water. Ron was able to free the screaming and kicking child from his safety seat.
He handed the wet and terrified child to his mother, and mother and child were both helped into the ambulance that had just arrived.
“Good thing the mother knew how to install the child safety seat correctly, or it might not have turned out so good,” Ron said to the paramedic.
When Ron returned to the station, there were no smirks from his fellow deputies. Lenny congratulated him for his quick thinking, “That lake can rise pretty quick in a down pour.”
It was an exhausted Ron who drove home that evening. He was relieved that the storm had passed. He was too tired to drive in the rain any more that day. It had been a long day, and the adrenaline from the accident had been replaced by disquieting thoughts about Heather’s short life. Although he was happy that some questions had been answered, it seemed that with each question answered, another three replaced it.
The Jacuzzi on the deck of his rented house, sounded good. It was the first time that he didn’t mind so much that he would be in it alone.
In fact, he was looking forward to some solitude to sort things out. So many questions to ponder. Why was there no record of Heather giving birth? What would make a young mother run away- leaving her child and fortune? And why would she kill herself, without making sure that her child was cared for. Or had she?
Where was the child?
Ron remembered the family law books. What library were they checked from? He sighed and pulled his car over to checked his notes. The one in Clearlake. He was almost glad that it was closed on Mondays- the Jacuzzi was waiting.
The water was hot. Ron was enjoying a beer from Mount St Helena Brewery, in Middletown; and the muscles in his neck were finally relaxing a bit, for the first time in a week, when his cell phone rang. Lenny’s voice said, “Hey Joe,” (they had picked code names just incase some local CBer was listening. This county was too small to chance someone matching their names with their voices- even their first names.) “Just thought I’d check on ya. How ya doin‘?”
Ron knew Lenny was making sure that the comment earlier today ran off his back. It did. But he appreciated the call all the same, and responded, “I’m okay. Long day. I’m just knockin' back a cold one in the Jacuzzi.”
“Hope not too many,” Lenny said. “I was wonderin’ if you would like to have dinner with the family and me.”
Ron groaned to himself, “Oh no! His niece again! Well, this would be too easy.” Out loud he said, “Nah, still on my first and last!” answering the first question. And then responding to the invitation, “Thanks anyway, but better not. I skipped lunch today and this beer’s gone right to my head.”
Ron hoped he wouldn’t have to come up with excuses the whole spring break. “I’m going to pop a TV dinner in the microwave and hit the hay early.” Then changing the subject, “Did you check the report?”
“Yeah, see ya for coffee in the morning. You can bring me up to speed.” By ‘coffee’, Ron knew Lenny was instructing him ‘to meet him in the orchard’.
Ron leaned back in the Jacuzzi and for the first time all day, he conjured up the blue eyes and tried to think of nothing else.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Library
Tuesday April 3rd , 2007
The lake was still and smooth as glass as Ron drove towards Soda Bay the next morning. He felt good. Not just because the storm had passed, and the sunrise was breathtaking. But it was also just dawning on him, that he may have saved a life the previous day!
As he climbed into Lenny’s car, he was handed a café latte. Ron looked surprised. “What’s a matter, you think we don’t know about lattes here in the back woods?” Lenny asked.
Actually what surprised him, was that it was the first cup of coffee anyone had bought him since he came to Lake County. He just took the cup and laughed at Lenny’s joke and said, “Actually I usually take mine black.”
Then they got serious. “Did you find out anything about the baby?” Lenny asked.
“No record of a Heather Logan or Heather Williams giving birth anywhere in California. I called my step dad and he is doing a wider search. It is possible that she gave birth under an assumed name. She was able to get a California Driver’s license and enter college under a changed name, so she may have another alias.”
Ron told Lenny about the fliers, and felt pleased at the response, “Pretty slick, Rookie!”
Then Ron told him that he, also, picked up a new TracFone and pre-paid card. Lenny agreed that it was the best way to communicate because they couldn’t be traced or monitored; and said they both should leave the generic greetings on their voicemails, so if someone got hold of the numbers, and called, they wouldn’t recognize the voices. Ron agreed that it was better to err on the side of caution.
After telling Lenny about his plans to follow up on the library lead, they parted ways each going separate directions and arriving to work about ten minutes apart.
It was around noon by the time Ron was able to get to the library. He showed a picture of Heather t
o the research librarian, and asked if she remembered talking to her about the list of books she had checked out.
“Oh my, yes!” the librarian answered, “What a shame. I read all about it in the Observer. She was such a serious young lady. But I didn’t see any signs of her being suicidal. In fact, I think she was planning on going into family law. She was particularly interested in illegal adoptions, and misappropriation of trust funds.”
Ron hid his excitement as he asked the librarian if she could remember anything else about Heather’s time in the library. “Did she talk to anyone?”
“Well… I remember she met an older gentleman here quite often- he wasn’t old enough to be her father- maybe a tutor… but I’ve never seen him here before or since. I’m pretty sure they just met- because he didn’t look like he knew who he was meeting, until she walked up to him. They spent several hours a day here for awhile poring over those books…”
The librarian paused a moment, squinted and continued, “About those books. They are overdue, when do you think we can get them back?”
Ron smiled and thought, “We all have our priorities!” And then promised her, “As soon as possible. I’ll bring them back myself.”
“Well, it looks like the investigation was taking a turn in a new direction,” Ron thought. But he still felt like the retreat was somehow involved more than anyone up there was admitting to.
He headed over to the Main Street Bar and Grill to grab a burger. His appetite was making up for missing meals yesterday. He would utilize the time to go over his notes. He was deep in thought, when the waitress asked for his order.
“Burger and fries and black coffee,” he said without looking up. He was on his third cup of coffee, and had eaten all the crackers on the table by the time his burger came.
“Boy! Are you hungry! Doesn’t your wife feed you? Or are you just addicted to crackers?” the waitress said, as she put the plate down and walked away. He looked up too late to see anything but her back and ponytail as she walked away.
