Post by jaglady on Feb 5, 2009 19:54:16 GMT -5
Chapter 12—Making Contact
Tyler clicked the keys as his eyes darted between the documents on his desk and the keyboard. “Here’s their name change certificates. They were filed in Colorado in 1986.”
Calleigh nodded with a resolve. “So Robert and Darlene Creech legally changed their names to Eric and Angela Miller.” She stared at the monitor. “I wonder why that is. Do some more digging.”
“Already did. I used the face recognition software that Emmie installed last month. It scans a photo and then pinpoints facial features to any photo in a particular database. I came up with this." He motioned towared the monitor. "Robert and Darlene Creech of Gunnison, Colorado.
Calleigh’s green eyes scanned the newspaper clipping on the main monitor. “Yep, that’s them. That explains it. ‘Local couple win Lotto jackpot. An all-time record of fifty-two million.’ At least it was back then.” She paused. “So Robert Creech was a deejay in at a country station Gunnison, Colorado back in 1986 when he and his wife won the Colorado state lottery. It says here that after taxes they took a lump sum of forty million.”
Tyler nodded. “I bet they had to disappear. Probably had all kinds of ‘friends’ they didn’t know about.”
“I don’t get it” Calleigh thought aloud. “Why go through all the trouble to change your name and move away from Colorado, and then become a TV meteorologist in Houston and then in Miami? Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose?”
Tyler looked at her. “Maybe he was just trying to be too obvious. He might’ve been hiding in plain sight.”
Calleigh never took her eyes off the monitor. “Anything about Melissa Matherson in there?”
Tyler brought up several more documents on the main monitor. “Nothing special about her. Just a meteorologist from the Houston area.”
“And not a very good one at that. She followed Eric Miller here from Houston. She says he was the father of her baby. Eric Miller split his estate between Melissa Matherson and his wife of almost thirty years. According to his bank records, he’d been paying her every month until recently. On top of that, Angela Miller’s car was tampered with, and Eric Miller had a lethal dose of Benadryl in his system. Somebody definitely wanted one or both of them dead, and it probably had a lot to do with money.” Calleigh leveled her eyes at the screen.
“Or maybe justice” Tyler added, his eyes still glued to the screen.
“What are you talking about?”
Tyler watched the screen as several documents flashed in front of him. “Found this. Filed in Colorado in 1996.”
Calleigh scanned the monitor. “A wrongful death suit filed against Creech Pharmaceuticals. And Robert Creech is named as a co-defendant.”
“Didn’t they go bankrupt?”
Calleigh nodded. “Let me see the bank statement from the Cayman Islands again.”
Tyler clicked keys again as the estate document sprang up on the monitor now. “Robert Creech opened that bank account in 1988. Probably a tax shelter.”
“Bring up Creech Pharmaceuticals” Calleigh ordered.
Tyler clicked keys again. “Creech Pharmaceuticals. Based out of Aurora, Colorado. Specialized in making hospital-grade pharmaceuticals, mostly liquid form. They cornered the market on Benadryl after the patent ran out. The company settled out of court, but Robert Creech was acquitted of any wrongdoing.”
“Eric Miller had almost three times the lethal dose of Benadryl in his system when he crashed. He was allergic to it anyway.” Calleigh thought for a moment. “Bring up that lawsuit again.”
Calleigh nodded at the document in front of her. “Compensation for the wrongful death of Mark Matherson, who was admitted to Summit County General and died from a tainted batch of Benadryl from Creech Pharmaceuticals.” She looked at Tyler now. “Mark Matherson.”
“Think there’s any relation?”
“I don’t know, but our poor little meteorologist is looking more and more like a murder suspect every second.” She furrowed her eyebrows now. “But one thing I don’t understand. Eric Miller never had any connections to the pharmaceutical industry. How was he involved in this lawsuit?”
Tyler clicked with the mouse now. “Creech Pharmaceuticals. Here you go.” He stiffened up and then looked at Calleigh. “That’s not Eric Miller.”
Calleigh looked at the AV tech. “Looks like somebody killed the wrong Robert Creech.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Emmie was exhausted again. She had been flipping through police radio channels and calling for help for what seemed quite a while. The rain and high winds continued to pound the battered Hummer.
Discouragement was setting in. Hanging onto the dangling cargo strap, she shifted her body and sat up, leaning her back against the cold, rain-pummeled wall. She glanced out at the ripples of water that just seemed to keep coming.
The computer tech had lost all sense of time now. She could only guess that it was mid morning. She couldn’t even tell which way clouds were moving. Slowly she looked around at the scattered glass, the used paper napkins with which she’d wiped tears off her face, and the blood-soaked Kleenex that she had used to clean Horatio’s sleeping face. She leaned her head on her drawn-up knee and closed her eyes. Hope was fading fast.
Emmie held her head up when she heard a sound that seemed out of place now. The drip, drip, drip of rain trickling into the driver’s side door now sounded more distinct. She strained and leaned back to see what was happening.
“Oh my God” she whispered. Adrenaline shot through her tired, pain-racked body.
The water had risen into the cab. There was about an inch of water under the accelerator. It was still dry in the back area where she had been sitting, but she could also see that Horatio’s feet were dangerously close to the rising water.
Painfully she leaned forward and unlatched the back of his seat, gently letting him recline. His sleeping face still looked at her. She glanced around frantically.
Emmie unhooked the cargo strap that had been dangling from the ceiling. That would do. Carefully she looped it under Horatio’s shoulders, hoping against hope he didn’t have any neck or back injuries. Carefully, painfully, she slid herself behind him and snaked the red strap around his chest. Slowly he slid forward to her as she tugged on the cargo strap. His head flopped down against her chest as she carefully and painfully dragged him up to safety. Emmie looked at her sleeping boss for a long time before she stuffed a towel under his head. His shoes were wet from having been in the rising water.
“I’ve gotta keep trying that radio, Horatio. I don’t know what else to do” she said softly, wiping a tear from her face. “You’d keep trying if it were me lying here injured, wouldn’t you?” With fresh resolve she picked up the handset and pushed the talk button.
“Mayday. Officer needs assistance. Over.” Total silence.
“Mayday. Officer needs assistance. Over.” She lay her head down in exhausted frustration.
“This is the Charlotte County Police Radio Frequency. Identify yourself!” an official male voice on the radio squawked back.
Emmie gasped and sprung up from her tiredness. She instantly came back to life as she pushed in the talk button.
“Oh, thank God! Thank God! My name’s Emmie Stockburne. I’m a computer tech with the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. I have Lieutenant Horatio Caine with me! We’ve been in a wreck! Over.” She held the handset, trembling with new hope.
The radio went silent again.
Oh God, please. Please come back!
“There’s an All Points out for you and Lieutenant Caine. What’s your location, Emmie? Over.”
“I don’t know. We got lost and then got into a wreck. Lieutenant Caine is unconscious, but he’s alive. My leg’s broken and my cell phone doesn’t work. Our police vehicle is totaled. Over.” Her voice cracked, and she trembled now. She made no more effort to control her fear. “Please help us. Over.”
The voice on the other end softened its tone to sound less official. The dispatcher had obviously sensed her distress.
“Emmie, keep talking. We’re looking for you. We can’t do an air search right now. Everything’s grounded because of the high winds. Over.”
Emmie no longer restrained her tears. “We’re both stuck in the Hummer. The water’s rising, and I can’t move. I don’t even know where the road is” she said through her sobs. “Please help us. Over.”
“Hang on, Emmie. Help is on the way. There’s been a manhunt for you and Lieutenant Caine between Maimi and Clearwater. Emmie, the first thing I’m gonna do is patch you through to the Miami-Dade Police Department. We’re gonna let them know you’re both still alive. The radio’s gonna go silent for a few minutes, but hang on. I’m right here. Over.”
She wiped her face with the heel of her hand. “Thank you. Over.”
Tyler clicked the keys as his eyes darted between the documents on his desk and the keyboard. “Here’s their name change certificates. They were filed in Colorado in 1986.”
Calleigh nodded with a resolve. “So Robert and Darlene Creech legally changed their names to Eric and Angela Miller.” She stared at the monitor. “I wonder why that is. Do some more digging.”
“Already did. I used the face recognition software that Emmie installed last month. It scans a photo and then pinpoints facial features to any photo in a particular database. I came up with this." He motioned towared the monitor. "Robert and Darlene Creech of Gunnison, Colorado.
Calleigh’s green eyes scanned the newspaper clipping on the main monitor. “Yep, that’s them. That explains it. ‘Local couple win Lotto jackpot. An all-time record of fifty-two million.’ At least it was back then.” She paused. “So Robert Creech was a deejay in at a country station Gunnison, Colorado back in 1986 when he and his wife won the Colorado state lottery. It says here that after taxes they took a lump sum of forty million.”
Tyler nodded. “I bet they had to disappear. Probably had all kinds of ‘friends’ they didn’t know about.”
“I don’t get it” Calleigh thought aloud. “Why go through all the trouble to change your name and move away from Colorado, and then become a TV meteorologist in Houston and then in Miami? Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose?”
Tyler looked at her. “Maybe he was just trying to be too obvious. He might’ve been hiding in plain sight.”
Calleigh never took her eyes off the monitor. “Anything about Melissa Matherson in there?”
Tyler brought up several more documents on the main monitor. “Nothing special about her. Just a meteorologist from the Houston area.”
“And not a very good one at that. She followed Eric Miller here from Houston. She says he was the father of her baby. Eric Miller split his estate between Melissa Matherson and his wife of almost thirty years. According to his bank records, he’d been paying her every month until recently. On top of that, Angela Miller’s car was tampered with, and Eric Miller had a lethal dose of Benadryl in his system. Somebody definitely wanted one or both of them dead, and it probably had a lot to do with money.” Calleigh leveled her eyes at the screen.
“Or maybe justice” Tyler added, his eyes still glued to the screen.
“What are you talking about?”
Tyler watched the screen as several documents flashed in front of him. “Found this. Filed in Colorado in 1996.”
Calleigh scanned the monitor. “A wrongful death suit filed against Creech Pharmaceuticals. And Robert Creech is named as a co-defendant.”
“Didn’t they go bankrupt?”
Calleigh nodded. “Let me see the bank statement from the Cayman Islands again.”
Tyler clicked keys again as the estate document sprang up on the monitor now. “Robert Creech opened that bank account in 1988. Probably a tax shelter.”
“Bring up Creech Pharmaceuticals” Calleigh ordered.
Tyler clicked keys again. “Creech Pharmaceuticals. Based out of Aurora, Colorado. Specialized in making hospital-grade pharmaceuticals, mostly liquid form. They cornered the market on Benadryl after the patent ran out. The company settled out of court, but Robert Creech was acquitted of any wrongdoing.”
“Eric Miller had almost three times the lethal dose of Benadryl in his system when he crashed. He was allergic to it anyway.” Calleigh thought for a moment. “Bring up that lawsuit again.”
Calleigh nodded at the document in front of her. “Compensation for the wrongful death of Mark Matherson, who was admitted to Summit County General and died from a tainted batch of Benadryl from Creech Pharmaceuticals.” She looked at Tyler now. “Mark Matherson.”
“Think there’s any relation?”
“I don’t know, but our poor little meteorologist is looking more and more like a murder suspect every second.” She furrowed her eyebrows now. “But one thing I don’t understand. Eric Miller never had any connections to the pharmaceutical industry. How was he involved in this lawsuit?”
Tyler clicked with the mouse now. “Creech Pharmaceuticals. Here you go.” He stiffened up and then looked at Calleigh. “That’s not Eric Miller.”
Calleigh looked at the AV tech. “Looks like somebody killed the wrong Robert Creech.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Emmie was exhausted again. She had been flipping through police radio channels and calling for help for what seemed quite a while. The rain and high winds continued to pound the battered Hummer.
Discouragement was setting in. Hanging onto the dangling cargo strap, she shifted her body and sat up, leaning her back against the cold, rain-pummeled wall. She glanced out at the ripples of water that just seemed to keep coming.
The computer tech had lost all sense of time now. She could only guess that it was mid morning. She couldn’t even tell which way clouds were moving. Slowly she looked around at the scattered glass, the used paper napkins with which she’d wiped tears off her face, and the blood-soaked Kleenex that she had used to clean Horatio’s sleeping face. She leaned her head on her drawn-up knee and closed her eyes. Hope was fading fast.
Emmie held her head up when she heard a sound that seemed out of place now. The drip, drip, drip of rain trickling into the driver’s side door now sounded more distinct. She strained and leaned back to see what was happening.
“Oh my God” she whispered. Adrenaline shot through her tired, pain-racked body.
The water had risen into the cab. There was about an inch of water under the accelerator. It was still dry in the back area where she had been sitting, but she could also see that Horatio’s feet were dangerously close to the rising water.
Painfully she leaned forward and unlatched the back of his seat, gently letting him recline. His sleeping face still looked at her. She glanced around frantically.
Emmie unhooked the cargo strap that had been dangling from the ceiling. That would do. Carefully she looped it under Horatio’s shoulders, hoping against hope he didn’t have any neck or back injuries. Carefully, painfully, she slid herself behind him and snaked the red strap around his chest. Slowly he slid forward to her as she tugged on the cargo strap. His head flopped down against her chest as she carefully and painfully dragged him up to safety. Emmie looked at her sleeping boss for a long time before she stuffed a towel under his head. His shoes were wet from having been in the rising water.
“I’ve gotta keep trying that radio, Horatio. I don’t know what else to do” she said softly, wiping a tear from her face. “You’d keep trying if it were me lying here injured, wouldn’t you?” With fresh resolve she picked up the handset and pushed the talk button.
“Mayday. Officer needs assistance. Over.” Total silence.
“Mayday. Officer needs assistance. Over.” She lay her head down in exhausted frustration.
“This is the Charlotte County Police Radio Frequency. Identify yourself!” an official male voice on the radio squawked back.
Emmie gasped and sprung up from her tiredness. She instantly came back to life as she pushed in the talk button.
“Oh, thank God! Thank God! My name’s Emmie Stockburne. I’m a computer tech with the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. I have Lieutenant Horatio Caine with me! We’ve been in a wreck! Over.” She held the handset, trembling with new hope.
The radio went silent again.
Oh God, please. Please come back!
“There’s an All Points out for you and Lieutenant Caine. What’s your location, Emmie? Over.”
“I don’t know. We got lost and then got into a wreck. Lieutenant Caine is unconscious, but he’s alive. My leg’s broken and my cell phone doesn’t work. Our police vehicle is totaled. Over.” Her voice cracked, and she trembled now. She made no more effort to control her fear. “Please help us. Over.”
The voice on the other end softened its tone to sound less official. The dispatcher had obviously sensed her distress.
“Emmie, keep talking. We’re looking for you. We can’t do an air search right now. Everything’s grounded because of the high winds. Over.”
Emmie no longer restrained her tears. “We’re both stuck in the Hummer. The water’s rising, and I can’t move. I don’t even know where the road is” she said through her sobs. “Please help us. Over.”
“Hang on, Emmie. Help is on the way. There’s been a manhunt for you and Lieutenant Caine between Maimi and Clearwater. Emmie, the first thing I’m gonna do is patch you through to the Miami-Dade Police Department. We’re gonna let them know you’re both still alive. The radio’s gonna go silent for a few minutes, but hang on. I’m right here. Over.”
She wiped her face with the heel of her hand. “Thank you. Over.”