Judy arrived at the clinic between 7:15 and 7:30 that morning. As soon as she got there, Wendi left to pick up Shane from Jamie. Since no surgeries were ever scheduled on Saturdays, it was Jamie’s day off. Wendi returned in time for the clinic to open at 8 A.M.
She laid Shane down in the designated area of the office that housed his bed with its colorful mobile, a swing and baby’s toys. She left the door open in order to hear him if he cried.
The door to the bedroom remained closed. Judy thought she heard sounds of movement from the apartment. She asked Wendi if Mike was coming out to help with patients that morning.
“Nah. He’s too hung over from last night,” Wendi said.
Despite Mike’s condition, Judy noticed that her daughter appeared to be in a very good mood. A couple hours after the clinic opened, Lloyd pulled into the back parking lot. He saw Mike’s pick-up parked there—the truck that was supposed to be in the body shop that morning.
Lloyd sent Tristan inside and then he got to work on some outdoor chores. The clinic stayed open until 3 in the afternoon on Saturdays, but Judy was tired and Tristan was hungry. She left with her grandson a little after noon to feed the boy and get some rest. When Lloyd finished up in the back, he joined his wife at the house.
Wendi closed up the clinic at the regular time. She strapped Shane into his car seat, hopped into Mike’s pick-up truck and drove out to the Davidsons’ place, arriving just after 4. They all had dinner together. While they ate, Judy continued to argue about the trip to Maine. Mike and Wendi had spent $1,500 for flight tickets for the four of them to travel back East, but still Judy persisted. “You shouldn’t go, Wendi. It’s bad business and a bad idea. Mike’s been acting strange. What if he doesn’t let you come back?”
After supper, Wendi loaded up the boys and drove over to her grandmother’s house. She dropped off some shrimp for Jessie Mae and chatted with her by her bedside. “We’re leaving for Maine in the morning,” she said.
“I’m afraid I might die while you’re gone. I might never see you again,” Jessie Mae cried.
“You’ll be okay,” Wendi reassured her. “I’ll be back and I’ll come by and see you just as soon as I can.”
Wendi talked with her step grandfather Emmett out in the yard. He glanced in the bed of the truck and noticed gravel and cement block chips.
Wendi returned with her two boys to her little apartment in the clinic. She later claimed that she’d discovered Mike’s body then. She said she’d found him in bed. Then she said she’d found him on the floor of the clinic. In all likelihood, both stories were nothing but self-serving lies. She did not see his body. Little Tristan did not experience that trauma. Mike was now lying on the bottom of a cold stock tank in the middle of a desolate ranch.