Chapter 20. Pinning Them Down
PINNING THEM DOWN
WHITNEY
When I reached Leipers Fork Monday morning, I turned into the shopping center and parked in front of the coffee shop.
Although I’d given up caffeine since learning I was pregnant, I still craved the taste of coffee, its warm way of welcoming the day.
I made a mental note to add a bag of decaf to my grocery list.
I slid down from my seat and went up the steps, inhaling deeply as if the rich scent of coffee could perk me up.
As I walked, something hard and uneven under my left boot threw off my gait.
Must be a rock stuck in the sole. I’d finally gotten around to cleaning my boots that morning but I’d done only a cursory job, knocking the dried mud clods off in the yard and brushing the dirt off the uppers.
I hadn’t turned the boots over and cleaned the soles.
There seemed no point in spending more time on them given that I’d be working in a barn with a natural floor and was likely to accumulate fresh dirt on them by the end of the day.
I opened the door to the coffee shop and stepped inside. My left boot gave off a metallic clink as it hit the tile. The sound alternated with the soft thump of my right boot as I made my way to the counter. Thump-clink. Thump-clink. Thump-clink.
The jovial barista greeted me at the counter. “Taken up tap dancing?”
“There must be something stuck to the bottom of my boot.” I put a hand on the counter to steady myself and lifted my left foot.
There was indeed something wedged in my sole, but it wasn’t a rock.
It was a small piece of mud-encrusted metal.
A staple maybe? A nail? I tried to free it with my fingers, but it was solidly embedded in the rubber.
I’d have to pry it off with a screwdriver later.
I returned my foot to the floor and ordered a decaf vanilla latte.
I left the coffee house three minutes later, hot drink in hand.
After downing a big slug and stashing the drink in the cupholder, I reached back between the seats and pulled a flathead screwdriver from my tool belt.
I moved the seat back to give myself room to maneuver, and propped my left boot on my right knee.
I inserted the head of the screwdriver between the rubber sole and the small piece of metal, and pried it loose.
I rubbed it with my thumb to remove the remaining dirt from the front and took a look.
Holy cow! The item in my hand wasn’t a staple, nail, or screw.
It was a pin, a platinum one that read REDEEMED.
My mind spun like the coffee bean grinder in the shop in front of me.
The last time I’d worn these boots was the day Tyler Yee was killed.
I’d had protective plastic booties over them when I’d come into the coffee shop that day.
If I’d picked up the pin in the coffee shop, the bootie would have been pinned to my sole and difficult to remove, but it had come right off when I tugged on it.
When I’d left the coffee shop, I’d spoken briefly with Detective Alonzo at the barn, then gone straight home.
That means I picked up the pin at the barn, didn’t it?
Whoever ended Tyler’s life must have been wearing it.
It had probably fallen off when Tyler grappled with his killer, and I’d stepped on it when I’d rushed over to check on him.
Were Devin Carmichael and/or Bess Ivarsson-Carmichael guilty after all? Had they killed Tyler for his exposé on their church? Or could the killer be the as-yet-unidentified Saved&Sanctified?
I pulled my phone from my pocket and called the detective.
She sounded interested, but cautious. “You’re absolutely certain you couldn’t have picked up the pin anywhere else?”
“Positive,” I said. “I took the boots off when I got home the day Tyler was killed, and I didn’t put them on again until this morning.”
“I’m glad you’ve found a new lead, because the lab wasn’t able to lift any prints from the scarecrow or the note, and I wasn’t able to get anything on Sanderson.
Wasn’t able to keep him in the lockup, either.
He’d never been served with the notice of the hearing on the protective order, or the order itself.
Both Bianca and Tyler had obtained protective orders, but Sanderson lives in a large apartment complex with multiple buildings and the process server got confused.
He left the documents at the wrong unit both times.
The tenant who lives there confirmed it. ”
“Argh!”
“My thought, exactly. Sanderson’s attorney also argued that Sanderson was only following Yee in the hopes of gathering information that might be helpful in family court.
He’s filed for visitation rights. Bianca hasn’t been letting him or his family see their son.
He told quite the sob story about how much he’s missed of his son’s life.
The judge released Sanderson but gave him strict orders not to attempt to contact Bianca.
The judge says if he does, he’ll get the maximum penalty next time. ”
I hoped Sanderson would obey the judge and leave Bianca alone, at least until they faced each other in family court. I feared what might happen if he didn’t. I also feared he was getting away with murder. “Are you going to Redemption Fellowship today?”
“As soon as I get the pin from you.”
“Why don’t I meet you there? I’d like to hear what the Carmichaels have to say.” I knew it was asking a lot, but I hoped Detective Alonzo would throw me this bone. I wanted to see if my help would pay off.
“It would be highly unusual for a civilian to sit in on an interview,” she replied. “I should allow it because…?”
Time to use my powers of persuasion. “Because if it wasn’t the Carmichaels who killed Tyler Yee, there’s another possible suspect who might be a member of their church.”
“And that person is…?”
“A real estate developer named Thad Gentry.”
There was a pregnant pause before she said, “Did you say Gentry?”
“Yes. Does that name mean something to you?”
“Four days before he was murdered, Tyler placed a call to a company called Gentry Real Estate Development. What do you know about this Thad Gentry?”
“He probably calls himself the president or CEO, but he’s not just a figurehead for his company.
He’s heavily involved in acquisitions. He seems to enjoy finding properties and negotiating deals.
We competed for the house I live in now.
We went head-to-head over an old motel at a tax auction, too.
” It dawned on me then that Gentry was both similar to and the opposite of Devin Carmichael.
While Devin liked to sell things, timeshares and salvation, Gentry liked to purchase things, primarily properties.
But while they might be on different sides of transactions, they both enjoyed negotiating deals.
“He’s very likely the ‘developer with bad reputation’ in Tyler’s handwritten notes. ”
“You looked over the documents you collected before Deputy Swisher arrived?”
I bit my lip. “Actually, it was after.” I came clean about snapping pics of the documents with my cell phone. “I might be a carpenter, but I’ve got a cat’s curiosity.”
“Normally, I might be upset that a witness reviewed confidential evidence, but in this case I’ll let it slide.”
I was grateful she was cutting this nosy girl some slack, especially since I wasn’t done being nosy. “Even if Tyler wanted to speak to Thad Gentry, could he have gotten past the gatekeepers? Gentry’s a busy man. My guess is he won’t accept calls from just anyone.”
“You’ve got a point. I didn’t speak to Gentry when I called his company.
He wasn’t available. I dismissed him as a potential suspect, though I’ll have to consult my notes to remember why.
I tried all the recent numbers in Yee’s phone, and I don’t recall the specifics of every one of them, especially if they didn’t seem relevant to his death.
Hold on a second. Let me find my notes.”
I was disappointed this lead didn’t seem viable, though I was curious to find out why.
There was a rustling sound before Alonzo came back on the line.
“Let’s see,” she said, clearly reading from her records.
“Yee’s call to Gentry Real Estate Development took place on the Thursday before Yee was killed.
The call was short, just two minutes long.
It’s possible he left a voicemail. I spoke with the receptionist, but she didn’t recognize Tyler’s name and couldn’t recall who she’d transferred him to.
I spoke with Gentry’s executive assistant, too.
Like the receptionist, she didn’t specifically recall Tyler Yee calling, and she doesn’t remember taking a call from anyone who identified themselves as a reporter.
She said she was in the copy room for a good part of that morning preparing documents for Gentry’s upcoming trip to South Carolina.
She told me that, if she’s away from her desk, calls for Gentry roll over to his direct line.
He can either take the call, send it to his own voicemail, or transfer it back so the caller can leave a message on her voicemail.
She never received a voicemail from Tyler Yee. ”
In other words, it was unclear whether Tyler had actually spoken with Thad Gentry.
“Gentry’s assistant told me he left for Charleston the morning Yee was killed,” Alonzo continued. “He had an early morning flight, an eight o’clock departure. He went there to meet with potential partners for a subdivision on James Island.”
If Gentry wasn’t even in the state when Tyler died, he couldn’t have been the killer.
Alonzo paused for a moment, apparently putting her notes away, but to my surprise she didn’t drop the subject. Instead, she continued to inquire about Thad Gentry. “You believe Gentry is a member of the Redemption Fellowship because…?”