by Brett Baker
The road ended in a large clearing surrounded by forest. At the back of the lot sat a warehouse that looked to be two stories high and at least a hundred feet wide. In the middle of the front wall, a huge bifold door with no windows dominated next to a smaller, overhead door to the right. The road ended at the huge bifold door, with a small driveway from the road leading to the overhead door. I parked on the driveway, and got out of the car.
There were no windows on the front or side of the building. I made my way to the back, and saw no windows, but there was a single steel door. I grabbed the handle, but it didn’t open. However, I noticed right away a basic security flaw: the door opened outward, which meant the hinges were on the outside of the building. After hunting around the ground and a few feet into the woods, I found two stones. I used one as a flat edge and inserted it into the top of one of the hinges, and then used the other to pound it. The hinge slid out, and then I did the same with the other two hinges. Some back-and-forth pressure on the hinges and handle freed the door.
Inside the building, the stark emptiness surprised me. I’m not sure what I expected to see, but it was more than what I saw, and not just because the only light came through the opening where I had just removed the door. A stack of six wooden pallets sat inside the door I had just removed. A reel of rope was mounted to the side wall, and a ten-foot shelf next to it had dozens of off-white tarps folded and stacked. A single, large industrial light hung from the ceiling, but didn’t turn on when I flipped the switch next to where I stood. But that’s it. Nothing else occupied the rest of the wide-open warehouse space. I went back outside and canvassed the entire perimeter of the building. On the opposite side of the building, a power inlet box indicated that a generator powered the light inside the warehouse. Not too surprising considering the desolate location, and the lack of other buildings nearby. Whoever used the warehouse had to bring their own source of electricity.
With nothing else to see at the warehouse, I put the door back on its hinges, wiped everything that I touched, and drove away.
Without knowing who owned the land on which the warehouse sat, it would be difficult to surmise the use of the warehouse. More than ten miles from the nearest main road, hidden behind a wall of trees, and accessible only through a narrow, winding road, it’s clear that whoever built it wanted it to be difficult to get to. However, I knew that Oswalt and Ospina arranged to purchase the land, so no doubt the warehouse had a suspicious purpose.
Ospina was dead, so he couldn’t tell me what was going on. But Oswalt survived, and the more I learned about him, the more I disliked him.
Chapter 25
The streets around the Dixie County courthouse hummed with activity once again as I parked in a space in front of the Ten Commandments monument. I’d circled the courthouse once, and had just decided to park on a side street when an older gentleman waved at me, and motioned toward his car. “I’m leaving now!” I braked, reversed a few feet, and let him back out of his space. He stopped as he did so and waved again, as if thanking me for taking his space.
As soon as I walked inside the courthouse Leona fixed her gaze on me. She stood at the customer service desk, doing nothing but watching me. I had two purposes for my visit, and I suspected that she wouldn’t like either of them. I waved to her, a sort of obnoxious, animated wave usually employed by teenage girls happy to see a long-lost friend. She didn’t wave back, but instead turned around and sat down at her desk among the other clerks.
I went to the computers along the side wall and typed Dirk Oswalt’s name. A long list of records returned. Too many to sort through, especially with Leona watching every move I made. Besides, I didn’t expect the land purchase from Stockton to have Oswalt’s name on it. But it’s one of those obvious topics of investigation that should be the first step for anyone. However, unless the land record contained a description similar to “Wooded land bisected by county road 342,” I had little hope of finding the record.
With no luck at the computer, I turned around to approach the desk. Not at all to my surprise, Leona watched until I started walking toward the desk, and then she put her head down as though she didn’t see me. When I got to the desk I said, “Excuse me. Leona! Can you give me a hand?” I didn’t want to talk to any of the other clerks, so I figured if I called her by name she’d have no choice but to help. She looked up at me, smiled, and then stood up. Her smile disappeared within two steps.
“Back again?” she asked.
“I am. Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it. As you advised before, I started with the computers, but I’m afraid there’s just too much information to sort through. I was hoping that maybe you could get me pointed in the right direction.”
“You can put in various search terms to refine your results. I can’t do the searching for you. It’s like Google. I’m sure you know how to do that.”
Leona had abandoned any attempt at pleasantry. She didn’t want to deal with me, and she didn’t attempt to hide it.
“I did all the search terms I could think of, but I’m afraid it’s all too general. And since I’m not from around here I’m not even sure if I’m using the right terms when I search.”
“You just have to look for someone’s name,” she said. “You know, like how you searched for Martin Coulson.”
“You remembered!” I said, with more excitement than called for.
Leona looked at me, and did something between roll her eyes and close her eyes in disgust. She wanted me to stop bothering her, but I’m afraid there’s just no way that was going to happen.
“Leona, you’ve lived here a long time, right?”
“I don’t see how that matters,” she said.
“It matters to me. I know you’re a dedicated public servant. You’re always so helpful. But I’m new in town, as you know, and I really need the help of a local. I was hoping maybe you could help me.”
“I thought you were working with Tyler Jo Hawkins.”
“I don’t know if I’m working with him. He’s helped me a bit. But he’s hard to get a hold of on the phone, and I don’t want to have to drive all the way out to his place every time I have question.”
“Did you have a question?” she asked.
“Yes. What’s that land out on highway 19? It’s right next to that county road, 342. Do you know who owns that?”
Leona stared at me, sighed, and then looked off into the distance. Anyone who didn’t know of my interest in Dirk Oswalt would have assumed that Leona had no patience, and my friendly, outgoing manner annoyed her. But Leona and I both knew that she knew Dirk, and that she didn’t like my questions about him, which caused her annoyance.
“There’s a lot of land out there,” Leona said. “Anyone could own it. I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific. Do you have an address, or a plat number or something? Just describing land is much too vague.”
“Let’s say it’s the land on the southeast corner of highway 19 and 342. Does that help?”
“No. We can’t search like that. We need actual identifying data.”
“All right, let me try another approach. Can we look at all land transfers involving Dirk Oswalt within the last five years?”
I expected a reaction from Leona, but she seemed unphased.
“Mr. Oswalt owns a lot of land in Dixie County, as I’m sure you know. I can’t imagine how many records there are that list his name. It’d be quite a lot to go through.”
“I’m patient,” I said. “I suspect he owns that land on 342, but I don’t know for sure.”
“I don’t think that’s right,” Leona snapped.
“Why not?”
“Well, I just don’t recall him obtaining that land.”
“You pay enough attention to his land dealings that you’d remember what land he acquires.”
“No. That’s not what I said. I said I don’t know remember him acquiring that particular piece of land.”
“Of course not,” I said. “I wouldn’t expect
you to remember every land acquisition. But that’s why you have records, right? So if you could help me find those records I’d really appreciate it.”
“That’s a large request. It’s going to take some time.”
“I’ve got time,” I said.
Leona reached under the counter and then slid a form across the counter to me. “You need to complete this form. We’ll process the form in the order we receive it. We just got a big request this morning, so it’ll be a few days before we even get to this, and there’s no telling how long it’s going to take to carry out the search.”
I pushed the form back toward Leona, and said, “Let’s forget about this form. You’re friends with Dirk Oswalt. Maybe you can just ask him if he owns that land. It’d really save me a lot of time, and it’d save you the trouble of searching.”
“I’m not friends with Mr. Oswalt,” Leona said. “But even if I were it’s not appropriate to ask such a thing. There are official channels for obtaining such information. You need to follow those channels.”
“You’re not friends with Mr. Oswalt? I don’t think that’s true.”
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken then, Ms. Mathis.”
“I don’t hug people unless I consider them a friend. And I saw you hugging Mr. Oswalt the other day. Do you hug people with whom you’re not friendly?”
Leona grabbed the form off the counter, and leaned toward me. “Are you spying on me?”
“Spying is a strong word,” I said.
“I don’t know how you could possibly know that unless you spied on me. But let me tell you something, you’ve caused nothing but problems since you came here. I think it’s time you left Cross City. We’ve helped you in every way we can.”
“Do you always get so defensive when someone asks you for a favor? You don’t have to get snippy. You can just tell me no. I know we’re not friends. Do you know how I know we’re not friends? Because we’ve never hugged.”
“Enough. I won’t ask Mr. Oswalt about his land holdings. If you’d like information you can complete the form. Otherwise, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for you.”
“See, was that so hard?” I paused to give Leona a chance to respond, but she just kept staring at me. “Tell Dirk I said hello the next time you see him.” Leona opened her mouth like she had something to say, but then thought better of it. As she walked away, I said, “Never mind. I’ll tell him myself when I see him to ask about his land holdings. You’re too scared to do it, but I’ve been dying to meet him, so I think it’s time that I do so.”
Leona stopped, and walked back toward the counter. “You’re better off just completing the form. I don’t advise you go see Mr. Oswalt.”
“Oh, well if Leona doesn’t advise it, I guess I better not do it. Just kidding. Thanks, Leona.”
I turned and left the building without looking back. I’d intended to ask Leona about Oswalt’s land holdings just so Oswalt would know I asked. I wanted him to know that I’d discovered another connection between him and Ospina, in addition to their meeting at the campsite a couple of nights before, in the hopes that he might get sloppy and lead me to the next step. But, as is often the case, I decided on the spur of the moment that facing the situation head on made more sense.
I had to talk to Oswalt.
Chapter 26
A couple of quick phone calls told me that I wouldn’t find Oswalt in his office that day. Considering the events of the previous few days, that wasn’t too surprising. I’m sure his initial reaction to what happened at the campsite was to leave town and stay out of sight until things calmed down, but if anyone saw him near the campsite that night it would only look more suspicious if he disappeared. But whatever plans he’d nurtured faced serious disruption with the elimination of his partners.
On the list of people Oswalt wanted to see I’m sure my name secured the bottom slot. I had no idea how he’d react if I knocked on his door at home, so I wanted to avoid doing so. I preferred to meet him alone, and it didn’t seem like Cooper had much going on, so I assumed he’d be home. I considered asking his office to call him and ask him to meet me somewhere, but I wanted to catch him off guard, so that wouldn’t work. I decided to employ an investigator’s two best tools – location and patience – to meet Oswalt in the way I wanted.
I parked on a cross street two blocks from his house that provided a view of both routes he could use to get to and from his house. Not much traffic passed through the neighborhood, and I hadn’t seen another Mercedes in Cross City, so when I caught a glimpse of his car as it passed through an intersection three blocks away I knew it was him. I drove down the neighborhood street as fast as I could without attracting too much attention, or endangering anyone nearby. As I reached the corner I looked to my right and saw Oswalt’s car. I turned and floored the accelerator, the engine growling, and tires squealing as I raced down the empty road surrounded on one side by a wall of trees, and on the other by an open field. He seemed in no particular hurry, so it didn’t take long for me to gain on him. But when he reached the stop sign at highway 19, I remained a quarter mile behind him. I hoped to reach him before he turned onto the highway, so I flashed my headlights as I approached, hoping he’d hear the racing engine or see the flashing lights and decide he should stop, which is what he did. I pulled on to the shoulder alongside him, and rolled down my window. He opened his window and looked like he saw a ghost.
“I have a few questions for you. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Come on, Dirk. We haven’t been formally introduced, but you know damn well that my name is Mia Mathis. Let’s not play dumb, okay?” Oswalt didn’t react. He looked at me and then looked straight ahead. It seemed like he was trying to decide whether he wanted to talk to me or try and make a break for it. “Just a quick chat. Don’t worry. I’m not going to arrest you. I think you already know that though. I suspect arrest isn’t what’s on your mind right now. It’ll be fine. I promise.”
“We can’t talk here,” he said.
“You want to meet somewhere public?”
“No. Come back to my house.”
“Is anyone there?”
“No. Just the two of us.”
I rolled up my window, threw the car in reverse, and spun around the back of Oswalt’s car, ending up going the opposite direction on the opposite side of his car. If we were going to meet on his turf, I wasn’t going to let him get there first.
I drove back toward his house and watched in the rearview mirror as he did a U-turn and followed me. With him behind me and heading in the same direction I wanted to open up as much distance between us as possible so he couldn’t bump my car and send me off into the woods. He seemed in no hurry though, and I reached the part of the road where it curved toward his house and had to wait for him to catch up to make sure he didn’t disappear once I drove out of sight. With him behind me I pulled into his driveway, parked my car next to the garage in the same spot I’d parked Cooper’s car, Jack, days before. I turned off the car and stood behind it as Oswalt pulled into the driveway. I didn’t want to give him a chance of getting into his house before me. He might have a gun in there – those things are dangerous!
Oswalt parked his car and I walked up the driveway and waited for him by the front door. If he had a gun in his car he’d have to take a shot at me with his house in the background. Maybe not a big deal for him, but I always sought any advantage that existed. But as he approached the house he smiled and said, “I’m glad you could make it.”
“Thanks for not running off. I didn’t know how that would go.”
“I don’t know how this will go. But I guess once we get inside and you tell me what this is all about we can find out, can’t we?”
Oswalt seemed at ease, and had a courteous, almost pleasant manner about the way he talked. For a moment I thought maybe he wasn’t worried about meeting me, but then I realized he’d just turned on the charm. When people in town mentioned wh
at a good guy he was, this is probably the guy they were talking about. He sounded like a glad-handing politician. The sort of bullshitter that gave some people the creeps, but made most people feel like they were talking to a close friend.
“Let’s not pretend you don’t know what this is about,” I said as he unlocked the door. “I know you’re surprised to see me, but you know who I am and why I’m here.”
He looked at me, said nothing, and opened the door.
“This way,” he said, as he motioned toward the office just off the entryway. He sat behind the desk and I took a seat in the chair on the opposite side. He put his hands on the arm rest and leaned back, as if ready to hear a story he didn’t intend to believe. “Now, Mia Mathis, what’s so urgent that you had to talk to me right away?”
“We’ve had an eventful few days, Oswalt. So let’s see. What should we start with? Tell me how you know Pietro Ospina.”
“I know Pietro Ospina?” he asked. “Is that a name I should recognize?”
“I’d think so. It’s my understanding that not only did you watch him die, but you had a business relationship with him. What was that relationship?”
