Chapter Ten

Criminology at Its Best—Or Worst

Dani

The next morning, I went to the Nawinah Police Department to see if they’d release the files on the Cunningham case. Large, balloon-like lights on short posts were out front with POLICE in thick black letters painted on the white background. I entered the double glass doors and walked to the glass faced counter. A policewoman was shuffling through some papers. “Can I help you?”

I didn’t exactly know what to say. “Uh, I’m a college student at Valencia taking criminal justice classes. I’d like some information on a local, unsolved case from 1971.”

She stopped looking through the papers and came to the counter. “All unsolved cases are confidential and not released to the general public. What was the case?”

“It was the murders of the Cunningham family.”

“I know the case, but we can’t release anything on it.”

“If the case is so old, what harm would it be for me to see the files now?”

“I don’t make the rules. Police records can’t be released to just anyone. It’d be too easy for that information to get into the wrong hands. If you were involved in a case and had retained an attorney, it’s possible the attorney could get the information. Do you have an attorney?”

“No, I don’t.” I’m sure my disappointment showed.

“I’m sorry. Maybe try the library or the internet. Several crime books also include information on that case.”

“Thanks for your advice.”

Disappointed, I walked out the door. What next? Would the library have anything more than what I had gleaned from the internet?

Metal benches lined each side of the walkway outside the police station. I sat on one, thinking about what to do next. I looked at the notes I had made previously and tried to develop a plan. I should’ve expected this. Why would they give records to a naïve, college student? Was I getting into more than I could handle?

As I sat staring at my notes, I saw a pair of shiny black shoes stop about a foot away and point toward me. I focused on the shoes then slowly moved my eyes upward to a man in a dark blue, police uniform. His piercing, blue eyes were set in a pleasant face with high cheekbones and a nose a plastic surgeon would copy. Strands of dark brown hair poked out beneath his police cap.

“Can I help you? Are you okay?” He had a clear, velvety voice.

I looked straight into those baby blue eyes and prattled, “I really wish you could, but I’m not any type of law enforcement officer, so I guess I don’t have a right to find out the information I want to know, and I don’t know how to get it, and I already committed to many people I would find it for them. Now I’m going to disappoint not only myself but so many other people. I don’t know what to do about it. So there!”

“Whoa! Do you want to run that by me again? No! Never mind. Can you just tell me a shorter, less speedy version?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just so frustrated. I need information on a murder case from several years ago, but the policewoman inside said I’m not authorized to look at any of the evidence.”

He looked so tall and handsome standing in front of me. “That’s correct. Police files are not open to the general public. Were you personally involved in the case? Your attorney can get that information.”

“No, I wasn’t involved, and I don’t have an attorney.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with? Perhaps buying you a cup of coffee?”

I squinted my eyes half closed. Was this guy hitting on me? Truthfully, I didn’t mind. He was really cute. Normally, I don’t let any guy I just met buy me coffee, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to accept his offer. Perhaps he could help me get some information. After all, he was a policeman.

I smiled as I stood. “That’s a good idea. I could use a cup of coffee.”

I sat at a booth in the nearby restaurant, and he went to the counter, bringing back two cups of coffee and two blueberry muffins.

He placed my coffee and muffin in front of me. “I hope you like muffins. I’m starving, and I didn’t want to eat alone.”

I took a sip of the hot coffee. “So, what do I call you? Officer?”

“Officer Joel Adams. Please just call me Joel. And may I ask your name?”

“I’m Danielle Reynolds. And please just call me Dani.”

“So, Dani, why is it so important to get information on this case of yours?” He seemed genuinely interested.

I went into some detail telling him about my criminology assignment. Of course, I didn’t tell this stranger about my dead grandfather. He most certainly would’ve left the restaurant immediately, thinking what kind of wacko he had picked up. I tried to express the urgency of finding out information simply from the standpoint of college credit. I talked for several minutes, explaining my situation. “What do you think? Is there any way you could possibly help me?”

He held his coffee mug and looked deeply into the liquid as if he could see his answer in the swirling steam coming off the coffee. “This is weird.”

“What’s weird? I just asked if you could help me. Why is it so weird?”

“No, no, not that. I didn’t mean your request was weird. I thought you might ask me for help. The weird part is I’m very familiar with that case.”

“What do you mean? You must be about twenty or twenty-five. Why would you be so familiar with it? It happened before you were born.”

“I’m twenty-four, and the weird part is my grandfather was a good friend of Bill Cunningham. My father talked about that case many times.”

Well, if he’d thrown a pie in my face, I wouldn’t have been more surprised. Who would have thought I’d meet someone also connected to this case? And his grandfather!

I looked at him with a blank stare. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m very serious. My grandfather was a deputy with the Orange County Sheriff’s Department when the murders occurred. He became sheriff with the death of the then current sheriff.”

My mouth was still open as I gawked at this Joel Adams. “Then your grandfather was Scott Adams?”

“How did you know?” He now seemed as surprised as I was. I could see the wheels in his brain definitely moving. “Wait a minute. What did you say your name is?”

“It’s Danielle.”

“No, what did you say your last name is?”

I glared straight into those blue eyes. “It’s Reynolds.”

“Ah, that’s it! You’re related to the butcher who killed that family.”

I quickly corrected him. “First of all, I’m not related to any butcher. I am related to Daniel Reynolds, Mr. Cunningham’s best friend. He was my grandfather, but he wasn’t a butcher, and he didn’t kill that family.”

He studied my angry face. “Dani, you do realize I know how that crime went down. I’ve heard about it all my life. The man bludgeoned those parents to death, shot those kids in the head, and committed necrophilia on that old woman.”

“Hey, I just met you. I don’t plan to argue with you. I also don’t want to go into this any further. There are some facts of which the police aren’t aware that prove my grandfather is innocent.”

He put his elbows on the table and moved closer to me. “I don’t mean to sound condescending, but how can a young college student know more than the entire Orange County Sheriff’s Department?”

He was annoying me. “I don’t need to explain anything to you. I know something the police didn’t know then, and no one is interested now because they already convicted my grandfather without a trial.”

With my lips tightly sealed and my chin raised, I leaped out of my seat. “Thanks for the coffee, Officer Adams.”

“Wait!” He caught my arm as I passed his bench. “What are you talking about? Please. Sit back down. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

I remained standing, looking toward the exit with him holding my wrist.

“Come on; sit down. I’ll be civil. Let’s talk about something else. Really, I’m sorry.”

I hesitated. He was cute. Maybe I’ll see what happens next. I sat back down.

His peace offering, “So, do you want another cup of coffee?”

“Okay.”

“Let’s pretend we just sat down in here. Forget our other conversations. So. Dani, where do you go to school? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Valencia College. Believe it or not, I’m majoring in criminal justice.” I guess I said that a little sarcastically. “I have a younger brother, Frankie. He’s almost thirteen. I live with my dad. My mom died of cancer a couple of years ago. Is there anything else you need to know in your interrogation?”

“I’m not interrogating you. I like you and want to know a little about you.”

“How do you know you like me? You don’t even know me. I might be the granddaughter of a vicious killer. Maybe I’m just like him.”

“Aww, come on, Dani. I’m really sorry. Please, let’s not fight the first time we meet.”

I looked into my empty cup. “Where’s my second cup of coffee?”

He hastily jumped up. “I’ll go get it right now.”

I chuckled to myself as he walked back to the counter. I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on him. The entire country had the same opinion about my grandfather as he did.

He came back with two more cups of coffee. “Friends?”

I smiled. “Friends.”

For a while we sipped our drinks in silence. “So what about you? When did you join the police force? Do you have a family? I assume you’re not married, or you shouldn’t be having coffee with me.”

“I’m not married. I’ve been with the Nawinah Police Department for three years. My dad is also a policeman with the department. I have two sisters, one older and one younger. My younger sister, Sabrina, might have gone to school with you.”

Sabrina Adams. That name did sound familiar. “I think she was in my biology class in tenth grade. How is she?”

“She’s at Florida State on a lacrosse scholarship and wants to go into sports medicine.”

“That’s great. I remember she was very athletic. Good for her. What about your other sister?”

“Lindsay is married to a navy guy. They live in Norfolk. She has a little boy Ethan.”

We continued the small talk for quite some time. We didn’t venture near any discussion about the Cunningham case again.

Eventually, he stood. “I have to get back to the station. I’m on duty in a few minutes. I really enjoyed talking to you. Do you think we could do this again sometime?”

“Yes, I would like that.”

“How about if we go to dinner this Friday? I can tell you all I know about the Cunningham case without giving any confidential information. I promise I won’t say anything to upset you. I’m so sorry. I really would like to see you again.”

I agreed to the dinner date, and we exchanged phone numbers.

Next I went to the library. The source documents on the case had been converted to microfilm, and the microfilm data had been transferred into the library’s computer system. I found some additional facts from what I had accessed online. I searched the Orlando newspapers, and I read excerpts on the case in numerous books. For several hours, I continued to read and take extensive notes. The information I accumulated would help me with my class assignment, but I didn’t find anything to clear my grandfather. I decided to go home and discuss my findings with Dad.

After dinner Dad and I went over the notes. He read them thoroughly and asked several questions. “I don’t have anything else to offer. That’s definitely more than I knew. Remember, my dad took off right after the crime, and I never saw him again. There was no opportunity for him to tell me anything different from what those newspapers stated. You don’t have much to go on to prove his innocence, do you?”

“That’s my quandary. I know he must be innocent. Otherwise, these nightmares and this business with Nadia Celik amount to nothing. Since the nightmares have stopped, and since we know something happened during those séances, I truly believe he didn’t commit those crimes.”

“Oh, Dani, I agree with you. I just don’t know how you can prove it.”