Katie found out about the tryst. “And, strangely, she acted as though I had cheated on her,” Adam said. “Like we were together the whole time. It was weird. She actually used this against me, brought it up often, during the course of our entire relationship.
“We were not anything. We were not together. I didn’t even know her. I just broached the topic of getting together in my Facebook message and did not even get a response to it.”
The way Adam later analyzed the relationship: “It was pretty much all downhill from the beginning—I just didn’t see it.”
* * *
KATIE WAS AN AVID traveler, having reportedly vacationed in Ireland, the Bahamas, Canada, “and across America in several cross-country road trips.” She and her family were avid campers and liked to take vacations together.
A website dedicated to Katie advocated that those closest to her “can attest to [Katie’s] kind, generous soul.” They added that she’d always been “witty, supportive, friendly, and outgoing.” A majority of people writing on the site agreed that Katie knew how “to make someone smile . . . [was] always willing to help others, as that is how she was raised.”
After Adam became ill in April 2015, Katie kept texting, inquiring about his symptoms, what doctors were saying, and how he was feeling. She seemed genuinely concerned.
“Your doctor still thinks it’s a regular bug?” she texted one afternoon. Adam wasn’t giving her much information other than scant details. His texts were succinct. Impersonal.
“Can you tell my mom I have an appointment and I’m at the doctor’s now,” Adam responded, ignoring her question.
It was April 26, 2015. Three months before Mary was murdered. Weeks later, Katie continued pushing Adam to discuss how sick he had been and what illness doctors figured it had been. She would not let up about it. She wanted details. Was it a bug? Food poisoning?
Adam could not understand why she was so fixated on his illness and what had caused it. As he thought more about her odd fascination, however, partly in jest, he texted: “And so, what I’m saying is, if you poisoned me, I’m afraid we can no longer be friends.”
Katie did not respond.
Adam then considered the date he became ill. Then texted: “And I had taken my second dose of Alpha BRAIN the night before.”
No reply from Katie.
49
AFTER FINDING THE BOTTLE of colchicine in Adam’s Jeep, along with the receipt from where it had been purchased, the OCSO investigators were positive someone was trying to frame Adam Yoder for the murder of his mother.
“And that’s when we focused on Bill Yoder,” VanNamee explained.
As they began to look into Bill’s life, the first interesting lead became Bill’s involvement with Kathleen Richmond, Mary’s sister.
“We have to find out when the relationship started,” VanNamee said during a morning briefing.
Lieutenant Nelson agreed.
The timing of the relationship was vital. If evidence existed that the romance started before Mary’s death, VanNamee surmised, “There’s your motivation for Bill to kill his wife.” And if the guy had enough bravado to kill his wife, the possibility existed for him to take things a step further and frame his son for the crime.
The OCSO also took interest in the fact that Adam had become very ill back in April. “The same symptoms my mother later experienced,” Adam had explained to VanNamee.
Mary’s son was certain his illness corresponded with taking an Alpha BRAIN supplement Katie Conley had given him and later pushed him to take. He wasn’t suspicious of Katie; he was more or less just pointing out how odd it all seemed in hindsight.
“Might be just a coincidence,” Adam suggested.
Might not be, VanNamee thought.
“Let’s secure that bottle of supplements,” VanNamee told forensics.
They also wanted Adam’s laptop.
“All yours,” Adam said.
The OCSO next set out to interview Mary’s sisters, two of whom gave statements saying they had no idea who could have murdered their sister. It just didn’t make any sense. Mary had no enemies. Everybody loved her.
“So then we come across the information that Bill is now seeing Mary’s oldest sister, Kathleen,” VanNamee said. “And we followed that thread. How could we not?”
After securing the bottle of Alpha BRAIN, VanNamee and his team discovered something. Adam was firm: “I took two pills, the second one made me ill.”
The bottle they confiscated was thirty tablets. After counting, they came up with twenty-nine.
“If Adam took two, that’s twenty-eight,” VanNamee told Nelson.
“Right.”
“So there were thirty-one pills in the bottle?”
They looked at each other.
* * *
ON DECEMBER 18, VANNAMEE called Katie. He explained that the OCSO was preparing to conduct an interview with Bill Yoder and needed her help. Katie had knowledge of the inner workings of the office. She was also there on the day Mary became ill. She personally knew Mary and Bill, along with Bill’s comings and goings within the day-to-day structure of the office setting. Had Bill been at the office, at any time, on the day Mary became sick? Had Bill (or Adam) received that package Katie had signed for from ArtChemicals, or stopped by the office to pick it up? Had Bill and Mary been talking by phone on the day she became ill? Were they the type of couple that argued? Was there a secret, or a rift, between them Katie might have known about?
By now, the OCSO knew the colchicine had been shipped to the office. They also knew from where it had been ordered.
Bill could have easily placed the order—and made it appear as though Adam had done it from Katie’s workstation computer. He could have stopped by the office to pick up the package.
“How are products ordered?” VanNamee asked Katie.
Katie explained the procedure.
VanNamee had asked Adam about the e-mail account used to order the toxin. To which, Adam had said: “That e-mail address looks like two of my personal e-mail accounts combined together.” Adam said he’d never set it up. Had no idea it even existed until VanNamee had brought it up.
“Have you ever seen a Gmail e-mail account used by Adam Yoder?” VanNamee asked Katie.
“No,” Katie said. “I know he has a college account. He also has a ‘Mr. Adam Yoder’ account, but there is no ‘1990’ at the end.”
VanNamee spoke to Katie for several hours on December 18 and 19 at the OCSO. She came across as honest, positive, and eager to answer questions.
“She struck us as . . . innocent. She was extremely helpful.”
Those first interviews with Katie, Bill, Adam, and others closely connected to Mary were about gathering information. At one point, while speaking with Katie, VanNamee put a blank sheet of paper on the table in front of her and asked if she might sketch out a floor plan of the office. After she did that, he asked which sections of the office she spent most of her day in. Where Mary spent her time. When Bill and/or Adam came in, where did they go, what did they actually do?
After a few additional inconsequential questions, VanNamee cut Katie loose.
“We’ll be in touch.”
“Sure, glad I could help.”
Bill was next. VanNamee called him.
“We’d like to speak with you when you have a moment—preferably as soon as possible.”
Bill drove to the OCSO immediately, without delay or asking why. He wound up inside the stationhouse for eight hours. He provided answers to every question asked, turned over all of his computers, iPhone, and iPad without hesitation.
“Anything I can do to help you,” Bill said.
“We appreciate that, Mr. Yoder. We understand this is a difficult time.”
“They came after me,” Bill said later. “I felt like a suspect for certain. I was more than willing to help any way possible. I had nothing to hide.”
Now the OCSO had all incoming and outgoing text messages from Bill’s iPhone,
along with e-mails. All of which dated far beyond and after the date Mary had died.
“We learned immediately that all of the e-mails and text messages between Bill Yoder and Kathleen Richmond were still on Bill’s devices and computers,” VanNamee explained. “Meaning that he did not delete anything connecting him to Kathleen Richmond.”
For investigators, that fact alone told them if you’re trying to hide an affair/relationship—or at least when it started—you’d almost certainly delete texts and e-mails dating the start of it. If Bill had put together such an elaborate plan to kill his wife—ordering the toxin ten months in advance, writing and sending two anonymous letters—the deletion of e-mails and texts would not be something he would overlook.
“And we put it together via that electronic paper trail that Bill and Kathleen started communicating about ten days after Mary passed away,” VanNamee said. “That was huge.”
One of the most telling texts they’d discovered on Bill’s iPhone was the first time he went to visit Kathleen days after the Celebration of Life. It was obvious from the texts Bill sent to Kathleen on that day that he had no idea where she lived. Bill texted Kathleen and asked her to stand on her porch and wave her arms so he could find her house. He knew the street, but not the exact house number or location.
To VanNamee, this type of behavior didn’t sound like a man who had been carrying on with Mary’s sister before Mary died.
“If that’s my girlfriend,” VanNamee observed, “I sure as hell know where her house is.”
A few days after Bill Yoder was interviewed, during a morning briefing, VanNamee and the OCSO learned forensics had discovered female DNA underneath one of the stamps on the anonymous letter. As VanNamee heard this, he thought back to the initial interviews he’d conducted with Katie. It was something she’d said. The comment struck him.
“She had explained to us that she actually placed a stamp on each envelope going out of the office. They did not have premade envelopes, like most businesses.”
The OCSO was still focused on Bill Yoder; they had not ruled him out. From their view, Bill could have planned the homicide and then seduced Kathleen. Or planned the entire wave-your-arms-so-I-know-which-house-you-live-in scenario to throw off investigators. Additionally, Bill and Kathleen could have planned the crime together. Within the scope of any homicide investigation, especially with a victim of Mary’s reputation and standing, no possibility was overlooked or tossed out until it was excluded by corroborating evidence.
All that being said, their finding female DNA under the stamp of the anonymous letter somewhat changed the OCSO’s focus. Only one female closely involved in the circle of witnesses was being questioned at the time.
“Why don’t I call Katie again?” VanNamee put out during the next morning briefing.
“Do that,” Nelson said.
“Bring her in, put a little pressure on her, and ask hard questions.”
Nelson agreed.
The OCSO had applied for eighty subpoenas. They had computer forensics working day and night, looking for any possible link to any of their suspects. Information was now beginning to trickle in.
“Katie, hi, it’s Detective Mark VanNamee with the OCSO. I was wondering if you’d mind coming up to the office and providing us with a DNA sample?” He explained further how they were looking for “elimination DNA.” They needed to exclude everyone they could as a donor connected to DNA they’d recently discovered.
Katie hesitated.
“It would really help us out.”
“Um, I guess,” Katie said.
When she arrived, VanNamee noticed Katie had something in her hands.
“What’s this?” the detective asked.
Katie had brought the envelopes and letterhead they used at the office.
“Thanks, Katie,” VanNamee said. “Really appreciate this.”
The OCSO had not asked Katie to do this. Katie was now offering information and evidence—a telltale sign, VanNamee knew from experience, indicating the person has something to hide.
“This is our letterhead and the type of envelope we use,” Katie said, showing VanNamee. “I just wanted to show you.”
“Thanks, Katie. This is a great help. Can I ask you something? When was the last time you saw Adam?”
“Oh, um, I guess it was September,” Katie said. She talked about the day Adam had picked her up at school and they went to the office to collect any potential contaminated items of interest so Adam could bring them to the ME’s office. Katie said the conversation became contentious between them as Adam grew angry and bossy while inside the office. It made her uncomfortable. He was stressed and yelled at her.
“So about three months ago?” VanNamee clarified.
“Yes.”
That was about it for the moment, VanNamee said.
Katie turned to leave.
“We’ll call you soon,” VanNamee said. “Thanks again for bringing the envelopes and letterhead. Great help to us.”
“Sure, no problem,” Katie said. “My pleasure.”
50
THE LATEST COMPUTER FORENSICS came in. Investigators told VanNamee that one of the IP addresses logging on to the Mr. Adam Yoder 1990 Gmail account had been traced back to Katie Conley’s home address. That was in October. If she hadn’t seen Adam since September, meaning he had not been over to the Conley residence in October, how could he have logged into the account from that IP address?
On December 21, VanNamee called Katie again.
“You think you have a minute to stop in and sit down with me? Won’t take long.”
“Yes, sure. I can do that.” Katie didn’t sound thrilled.
Before she arrived, Nelson and VanNamee decided VanNamee would be more frank and accusatory. He would ask specific questions based on the new evidence the OCSO had received. VanNamee was specifically interested in Katie’s response to how Adam could have logged on to his Gmail account from Katie’s house if she had not seen him since September.
Katie walked in, again without a lawyer. She was directed into an interrogation room. She wore a gray hoodie, large tortoiseshell glasses, and blue jeans. She sat with a bottle of water and a box of Kleenex in front of her, her hands on her lap. Katie stared at her hands and the wall after VanNamee sat her down and excused himself, leaving her alone. Bored and impatient, Katie picked at her fingernails. She looked frightened. Her body slumped over, shoulders drooped, upper body curled into itself.
VanNamee returned. He explained he was looking to get more into why Adam could have killed his mother.
A motive.
“You’re free to leave anytime. I’m going to take a statement, but that’s just for me . . .”
As VanNamee spoke, Katie acted strangely. She started to hyperventilate. Cry.
“I’m scared . . . I’m scared,” she said.
VanNamee mentioned how, because he was going to be sharing evidence from what was an open case, policy dictated he read Katie the Miranda warning. “And you’ve probably seen this in the movies and on TV? Do you understand?”
“Yeah . . . yeah,” she answered through tears and quick, repeated, short breaths, as if lifting weights.
“You’re not in any trouble. I just need you to be honest with me, okay?”
After reading the Miranda warning, VanNamee asked Katie if she was willing to continue talking to the OCSO without an attorney present.
Katie hesitated.
VanNamee asked again.
“Yeah,” Katie uttered, nodding her head, wiping tears from her eyes. By now, she had a tissue balled up in one hand, which she stared at occasionally.
VanNamee asked why she was so scared.
“Adam’s really smart.”
Within a few moments, Katie admitted to writing the anonymous letters.
VanNamee asked how she knew where to send the letters. He was curious why she didn’t send a letter to the state police. Why choose the OCSO over the state police? How could she know the OCSO was looking i
nto Mary’s death?
After a long back-and-forth, Katie agreed she was “guessing” the case was within the OCSO’s jurisdiction. The ME’s office, they both agreed, was an obvious choice.
Katie explained how Adam had made an admission on the day they were at the office back in September. After freaking out inside the office, while driving her back up to school, he said he put the colchicine he’d used to kill his mother underneath the passenger seat of the Jeep. Katie said she realized she was essentially sitting on the murder weapon.
“Did you ask him to show it to you?”
“I didn’t want to see it.”
“Did he tell you how he got it?”
“Yeah.”
VanNamee had a difficult time understanding and hearing Katie. She spoke softly, with a high-pitched voice. It was as though she was constantly on the verge of tears.
Beckoning her to speak up and continue, Katie said: “He said he . . . he . . . had it sent to the office.”
Katie insisted, before recalibrating her answer to “pretty sure,” she “saw him that day” when the package arrived from ArtChemicals. The allegation was that Adam had shown up at the office and was looking for a delivery in his name.
“[Did he] take the package?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said.
VanNamee pulled out a document and set it in front of Katie. He mentioned the Gmail account.
“You knew what the password is, correct?”
Katie nodded her head.
“What password did you use to close this account?”
“I don’t remember exactly what it was . . .”
They discussed the password. Katie would not commit to an answer. So VanNamee asked: “You did log into it, correct?”
“I was hoping he didn’t change the password.”
“You logged into the account from your house, correct? I need you to be honest with me. I can’t have you telling me I never logged into this account . . . and I get more of the IP addresses back and I realize you have logged into it.... If you want me to help you, I need you to help me. You follow me?”
We Thought We Knew You Page 18
