[Marc Kadella 03.0] Media Justice

by Dennis Carstens

  Cale saw Patty Dunphy and Louise Shaffer near the park’s visitor center and made his way through the crowd to them. The two women, along with Barbara and Floyd Riley and several volunteers, were setting up behind several tables.

  “Quite a turnout,” Cale said to Shaffer. “What’s the plan?”

  “We’re going to line them up along Dodd Road,” Shaffer said pointing off to the east, shielding her eyes from the morning sun. “We’ll get them stretched out all the way south to 120th. Then we’ll sweep west until we come out on Pilot Knob.”

  “How many lakes and ponds are there?” Cale asked as he watched a couple of his deputies directing people to their start-up positions.

  “Seven lakes and I don’t know how many ponds. It won’t be easy. We figure it will take all day. There are restrooms at picnic areas throughout the park that people can use. Plus, we have several places set up in picnic areas to feed people as they make their way through it. We’ve got burgers, hotdogs, brats and soda.”

  “Where’s Brittany?” Cale quietly asked.

  “Not here. I don’t know why,” Shaffer replied.

  “Where’d the money come from for all of this?” Cale asked.

  “Barbara has been on every TV show in town and I hear she’s going national. She has a website set up and an 800 number. People can donate money through the website.”

  “How much has she gotten?”

  “I don’t know. But Barbara told me paying for all of the food wasn’t a problem,” Shaffer said with raised eyebrows.

  “Interesting. Well, I have to take off. Let me know if you find anything.”

  “Of course. I’ll call you later and let you know how it went even if we don’t find anything,” she answered.

  For the next six hours, the massive horde of searchers swept through the large park. The length of their search line ran a little more than a mile. With the number of people in line, they started off almost elbow-to-elbow. The park was over two miles long and because of the terrain and the bodies of water to work around, the going was a little slow. When the search was finished, the park was virtually litter free from the searchers scooping it up and several dozen articles of clothing, including a significant number of the size for small children, were found. Unfortunately, none of them could be connected to Becky Riley. The day wasn’t a total loss though because Barbara was able to collect another fifty thousand dollars in donations. Then plans were made to search other parks and open places in Dakota County.

  When the Rileys returned to the park’s visitor center at the end of the search, there were almost twenty media members waiting for a press conference. Barbara spent an hour in front of the cameras answering the same questions over and over about the search. When she finished, she went inside the building and per prior arrangement, spent another half hour with Melinda Pace doing an exclusive interview. Melinda was the only media person who noticed the absence of Brittany. She asked Barbara about it and received a non-answer excuse claiming Brittany was simply too distraught to attend.

  On Monday, Brittany Riley arrived at the Channel 8 TV station promptly at 9:00 A.M. for her second solo interview with Melinda. Brittany had been reluctant to do it but her mother had insisted. The first interview, done the week before, despite Brittany’s obvious discomfort, had gone smoothly enough. The young woman had been visibly stiff, uncomfortable and nervous. Melinda had treated her with kid gloves and the interview had gone off without a hitch. Brittany even came across as genuinely stressed, nervous and sympathetic. Unknown to the guest, today’s show was going to be quite different than the first.

  Robbie Nelson, Melinda’s producer, as he had been during the first interview of Brittany, was in the control room handling the technical aspect of the taping. Brittany and Melinda had finished with the makeup and were on the set. Cordelia Davis hooked the mic up to Brittany, did a sound and light check and they were ready to roll.

  The two of them were on a casual set. They were each seated in a comfortable cloth-covered, swiveling armchair with a glass-topped coffee table between them. Brittany and Melinda were actually close enough to each other to be able to reach across the table to shake hands.

  Melinda looked into camera one. They were using two cameras to tape both women for the entire session then edit the good parts. Melinda read a brief intro to get this show started then looked at Brittany, smiled and said, “How are you feeling today, Brittany? I understand you were too upset to attend the big search that was done on Saturday.”

  “I’m okay today,” Brittany answered.

  “Good. You don’t seem as nervous as you did the first time I interviewed you. Are you getting a little more comfortable being in the spotlight?”

  “No, not really,” Brittany replied.

  The two of them chatted amiably for the first few minutes about Becky’s disappearance and the stress Brittany and her family were going through. Melinda spoke softly, asking her easy questions about the situation, the toll it was taking on her and what they were doing to find the missing little girl.

  “You must be having a lot of trouble sleeping?” Melinda asked.

  “I’ve been getting only a couple hours sleep each night,” Brittany agreed.

  Ignoring her answer, Melinda leaned forward placed her elbows on her knees, looked directly into her eyes and said, “Can you explain why, the very night you claim your daughter went missing,” at which point a picture of Becky went up on the screen behind them, “you were out partying at a bar with your friends?”

  Brittany’s back stiffened and she leaned back in her chair, her eyes wide-open and her jaw hanging loose as if Melinda had just slapped her. “What, um...uh…how, what? I don’t know, I mean I don’t think…”

  “What?” Melinda asked. “Are you denying it?”

  “I guess, um, no. I mean how do you know that and what does that have to do with anything?” Brittany said, trying to maintain some semblance of calm.

  At that moment the background photo of Becky was replaced by a selfie taken by one of her friends that was date stamped the same day Becky disappeared. It was a photo of Brittany and her three friends taken at a bar.

  “This is a picture that was posted on the Facebook page of a Julia Day. She’s a friend of yours, isn’t she?” Melinda asked while still staring directly at Brittany.

  Brittany turned her head to look at the photo and said, “Yes, ah, she’s my friend, but um, I don’t, um I don’t remember when this was taken.”

  “It’s dated,” Melinda replied. “Isn’t that the same day Becky disappeared. Or so you claim.”

  “Yes, it is. But I remember now, I, ah, I spent the whole day looking for her and I just wanted to get out. I needed to get out because I was so upset…”

  “Yes, you certainly look upset. In fact, you were so upset you went out a few nights later, didn’t you?”

  The background selfie of the four girls disappeared and was replaced with a new one. This time, it was a photo, again clearly dated, of Brittany standing on a bar with several other attractive young women, all posing, smiling and wearing identical white T-shirts with the name of the bar on the front. As Brittany looked on in horror, a series of five more photos of Brittany on the bar in various poses were shown. The last one, uncensored, showing her standing triumphantly holding a small trophy above her head, the T-shirt now soaked with water, Brittany visibly braless.

  “Funny,” Melinda deadpanned, “you don’t look too upset in these pictures either do you?”

  While the photo of Brittany showing off her wet T-shirt contest trophy remained on the screen, Melinda said, “All of these events and pictures were taken during the ten days you couldn’t be bothered to call the police and tell them your baby was missing. That beautiful little girl was gone and you were out partying.”

  A silent moment passed between them that seemed longer than it was. Brittany remained in her chair but just barely. She was looking at Melinda with a shocked, almost numb expression on her face. Her hands we
re tightly clutching the arm rests on the chair and pushing her back almost out of the seat.

  “How did you get these? What are you trying to do…?”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Melinda said as she sat back in her chair and casually crossed her legs. She held out her right-hand palm up, and her arm extended toward the picture.

  “If this isn’t enough, two nights ago, Saturday night, the same Saturday you said you were too upset to look for Becky at Lebanon Hills Park, you were out partying again, weren’t you?” At that moment another shot of Brittany in a bar went up on the screen, this one taken by the man Melinda had hired to follow her.

  “How do you know that?”

  “You didn’t show up to search for Becky because you knew she wasn’t in that park, isn’t that true?” Melinda asked as if she were a prosecutor cross-examining a defendant.

  “What?” Becky answered Melinda with an incredulous look on her face. “You think I had something to do with Becky being gone? You’re insane!” she yelled.

  “Am I? Then, explain your behavior, if you can.”

  Brittany stood up, removed the mic from her blouse, threw it at Melinda and screamed, “Fuck you, you crazy fucking bitch! I had nothing to do with it. I told you, a man named Bob Olson took her!”

  Before Melinda could respond, Brittany burst into tears and ran off the set. Melinda looked around at the film crew and said, “Please tell me you got all of that.”

  FIFTEEN

  Patty Dunphy, Sheriff Cale’s press officer, her three-inch heels clicking on the tile floor, hurried down the hall toward Cale’s office. Cale’s assistant, Louise Shaffer, heard her coming and from her desk in front of Cale’s office, looked up at Patty as she hurried past toward the sheriff’s office door.

  “What?” Shaffer asked her friend.

  “Is he in?” Dunphy said then knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a reply.

  “Come in,” Cale said looking up to see Dunphy come through the door, “What’s up?” he asked.

  “We just got a call from Channel 8 telling us to watch their four o’clock show, The Court Reporter. Do you know the show?”

  “No,” Cale shrugged. “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Dunphy said with a slight hand wave as she stood in front of his desk. “We were told Brittany Riley is being interviewed and we should watch it.”

  Cale looked up at the clock on his wall and saw it was two minutes before four. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s take a look.”

  Dunphy retrieved the remote control sitting on the TV in the right-hand corner of Cale’s office in front of his desk. At that moment, Paul Anderson and Louise Shaffer came into the office. Cale looked up and gestured for them to take a seat as Dunphy turned on the TV set.

  For the next twenty minutes, the four of them sat silently watching the trainwreck that was Brittany’s interview with Melinda. When it was over, after Brittany had fled the set and following a commercial break, Melinda took a few minutes to solemnly stare into the camera and review what she assumed was the evidence against Brittany and all but declared her guilty of Becky’s disappearance.

  When it was over, Cale dismissed the two women after politely admonishing them to keep quiet about this for now. Even though it had been publicly aired he didn’t want a lot of office gossip about it. Cale sat back in his big, brown leather desk chair, laced his fingers behind his head, looked up at the ceiling and silently thought for a full minute. Paul Anderson waited patiently for the ass-chewing he was sure was coming.

  Cale sat up, placed his forearms on the desk, looked at Anderson and said, “There’s not much point in recriminations, but we do need to get this information.”

  “Agreed. Apparently, we need to start going through social media sites of Brittany’s friends. Her behavior is suspicious, to say the least. I’ll put Kristin Williams on that. She’s very good at it. I know she has been through Brittany’s online stuff. Apparently, we need to look at everybody who knows her,” Anderson said.

  “Where is everybody today?” Cale asked.

  “Stu is running down alibis of a few Bob Olsons. So far, no luck…”

  “I’m not surprised. I’m beginning to think this whole boyfriend story is bullshit,” Cale responded.

  “Williams and Keenan are out interviewing ex-boyfriends of Brittany,” Anderson continued.

  “Get a hold of everyone. I want a meeting at six today to review everything. I’ll call LeAnne Miller and see if she can sit in,” Cale told him referring to the Dakota County Attorney.

  At that moment, Patty Dunphy knocked on Cale’s door and stepped back in. “We’re getting calls from the media asking about that TV show. What do you want me to tell them?”

  Before Cale could answer, Anderson said, “Let’s tell them we had all of that information and are reviewing it and all other information related to this case. Other than that, we have no comment.”

  “And deny that Brittany Riley is a suspect,” Cale interjected. “Tell them we are still pursuing the boyfriend, Bob Olson, as the primary suspect.”

  “When they ask if we have found him?” Dunphy asked.

  “Tell them we are pursuing a number of leads and we won’t comment about an ongoing investigation,” Anderson said.

  “That should work,” Cale said.

  “Not for long it won’t. This thing is starting to generate some serious media interest. Good looking young, blonde mother and beautiful blonde baby missing. The public eats this stuff up and the media loves feeding it to them. As disgusting as it may seem, this sleaze sells,” Dunphy replied.

  The four investigators waited patiently for their boss and the county attorney to arrive for the meeting. They were sitting around the large table in the main conference room discussing the investigation and their findings. Kristin Williams was using a laptop to check out the pictures of Brittany that were used by Melinda to ambush Brittany that afternoon. Shannon Keenan and the two men were sharing the contents of the case file paying particular attention to the photos and reports of the crime scene unit’s search of Brittany’s apartment.

  “Nothing here out of the ordinary. Nothing that you wouldn’t expect to find in a young woman’s apartment,” Anderson said.

  “What is this?” Shannon asked while staring intently at a photo.

  “What’s what?” Anderson asked while he leaned over to take a look. Stu Doyle stood, got behind Shannon’s chair, and bent over Shannon’s shoulder and also focused on the photo.

  “This right here,” Shannon said pointing at a barely visible, dark object that appeared to be attached to a door.

  “It’s a hasp,” Doyle answered her. “Looks like what is called a rotating eye hasp. It’s used to lock a door from the inside.”

  “Okay,” Anderson said. “But this is a photo of the kid’s bedroom. It was taken from the hall looking into the room. That’s the bedroom door and…”

  “And Brittany had a lock on the outside of the door so she could lock Becky inside,” Shannon quietly finished the thought.

  “Looks like it,” Doyle said.

  Shannon looked at both men with a puzzled expression and said, “Why would anyone…”

  “To lock the kid in her bedroom so she could…” Doyle began.

  “Do anything she wanted,” Anderson finished.

  The conference room door opened and Cale held it while LeAnne Miller entered. The county attorney was a small woman, barely an inch over five feet and a hundred pounds with rocks in her pockets. Pushing fifty and starting to show the years of job stress, she had been a prosecutor with the U.S. Attorney’s office until a few years ago. The Democrats found her, convinced her to give politics a try and she was now in her second term as Dakota County Attorney. Everyone, cops, lawyers and judges were all very positive about her job performance.

  She went around the table shaking hands and greeting the deputies then took a seat at the head of the table. Cale had taken the chair to her right.
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br />   “Okay,” she began in a firm voice looking over the detectives to let them know who was running this meeting. “I’ve been over everything you have with Sheriff Cale. Anything new, anything positive about the boyfriend, this Bob Olson?”

  “Nothing so far,” Doyle answered her. “We’re running down as many Bob or Robert Olson’s as we can in the metro area especially the ones that fit the age, weight and height description. Or, at least, those that are possible. So far, they’ve all alibied out. But there are more to look at.”

  “We interviewed a couple of Brittany’s ex-boyfriends,” Shannon began. “One by the name of,” she continued as she opened her notebook, “Dustin Barnes. Age 24. He lives in Bloomington and says he met her at a party about nine or ten months ago. He says, they dated for a few weeks and were sexually involved. He believes Brittany wanted a father for Becky and that’s what caused the breakup. He wasn’t ready for fatherhood.

  “The second one we talked to this afternoon,” Shannon continued. “An Alex Walker who lives in Burnsville. He works for Canon Copiers in sales and is out of town a lot which is why we had trouble tracking him down. Anyway, pretty much the same story. Casual dating, casual sex, at least on his part. But,” she stopped and made eye contact with Kristin.

  “But,” Kristin said continuing,

  “They both made a similar comment about something Brittany said. They both said, after she had a couple drinks, that sometimes she wished she wasn’t stuck with a kid. They both claim those were her words. Stuck with a kid.”

  “What do you think?” Cale asked Miller.

  “I think if I was a twenty-one-year-old widowed, single mother, I’d have times where I felt the same way,” Miller said. “By itself it doesn’t mean much.”