Chapter Twenty-Six

Questions, Answers, More Questions

Bill

Andrew had taken the week off work. We were to meet Grace, Joel, and Danielle at Doug Plimpton’s office at three. At breakfast Andrew asked, “Bill, is there anything specific you want to do before our meeting with Doug?”

I did have a few things on my mind. “I need to somehow find out what happened to Gunderson Grove Limited after I was presumed dead.”

Andrew added, “Doug will be able to answer most of your questions. I also have the telephone number of Bobby Cooper, your accounting assistant. He’s a CPA in Orlando and said he’d help in any way he could.”

Ah, yes, Bobby Cooper. “I might give Bobby a call. He was a sharp, young man. If he stayed with the company until the end, I’m sure his knowledge will be helpful.”

I thought of another chore I needed to do soon. “I’d also like to get to my banks to see what’s necessary to activate my accounts or pay any outstanding debts.”

Andrew suggested, “You might want to talk to Doug before you make any financial decisions. He would know what happened to your money.

“Now that I shot down all your plans, is there anything else you want to do?”

There was something I had been contemplating. “I’d like to go to the Gunderson Groves’ office and warehouse. Do you know if the building is still there?”

Andrew tilted his head in thought. “I haven’t been over that way for some time. It was leased by a carpet company for a while, but they closed their doors about ten years ago. Since then, I don’t know. We can check it out.”

Andrew placed my briefcase in the trunk of his vehicle, and we drove across town to the warehouse. I was anxious to see the building where I had spent so much of my time. As we turned the corner on Lowry Road, I saw it standing dark and dilapidated in the distance. I felt a stab to my heart. Had I even thought about it all those years? Had I wondered what had happened to the fine people who worked for me? I was so consumed with grief I was incapable of realizing others were suffering too. Their lives were interrupted. Their jobs were in jeopardy. The Reynolds family and I were not the only ones affected by the actions of that bastard.

Andrew pulled into the rutted, deserted parking lot, which formerly held many employee vehicles and several semi-trucks filled with oranges awaiting shipment to various destinations. Sadness overwhelmed me, seeing the condition of the property. I got out of Andrew’s automobile and stared at the decaying building.

“So what’s next?” Andrew asked.

“Can you climb the fire escape? On the roof is a door into the warehouse. It’s possible it’ll be unlocked. If not, on the side of the permanent storage container, I kept a key inside a hidden, metal box glued to the container. If the key isn’t there, you can break the window to unlock the door. I’ll have the window replaced later. I’ll wait near the docks.”

While Andrew climbed to the roof, I walked to the warehouse door and waited. Soon he opened it. “The roof door was unlocked. I locked it before coming down the stairs.”

Entering the building, I was stunned by the size of the loading area interior, now completely empty. Our footsteps echoed through the vacant space as we walked on the concrete floor. All evidence of this property ever being filled with oranges, people, trucks, forklifts, and packaging was now gone. I walked to the open door of what used to be my office. It was a small room toward the front of the building with doors leading both to the warehouse and to the other office areas. Amazingly, my original desk was still the focal point, though now worn and balanced on only three legs. Everything else had changed. No pictures of family members hanging on the walls or resting on the desk. A hard, plastic chair had replaced my brown, leather chair.

I walked out the door into the other office area and wandered around. I could still visualize Ethel Grumley, my receptionist, with her headphones wrapped around her head, talking to a customer.

After walking through all the offices, I had enough. Nothing was there for me. I’d have to decide what to do with this property. It was now just a big eyesore. I’m sure the orange groves had also gone to seed by now. I’m too old and tired to make this a functioning business again. Besides, I have a more important agenda.

We left the warehouse, and Andrew drove around Nawinah, pointing out the many changes. At one o’clock, he parked his vehicle downtown, and we went to a small restaurant near the police station. A young lady dressed all in black with a long, white apron took our order. When she left our booth, I remarked, “Why are her eyes so black? Do you think someone punched her?”

Andrew laughed. “No, Dani says that’s the new smoky eye look. I can’t keep up with all these fashion changes. If it’s hard on me, I can see the shock you must feel. Wait until summer and you see the skimpy clothes these young girls wear.”

To our surprise, Joel walked into the restaurant. Andrew called out, “Hey, Joel! Over here!”

Joel sat at our booth. “I didn’t expect to see you two here. I came in for lunch before meeting you at the attorney’s office.”

I invited him. “So now you’ve already met us. We’ll eat and walk over to Doug’s office together.”

On our stroll, I enjoyed seeing the town up close and reflecting on all the changes. When we arrived at our destination, Grace and Danielle were already seated. Andrew informed the receptionist everyone was present. About five minutes to three, Mr. Plimpton’s assistant led us to the conference room. “Help yourselves to the coffee on the credenza. Mr. Plimpton will be right with you.”

Within a few minutes, Doug Plimpton opened the door and strolled toward the chair at the head of the table. He arranged the files he had brought and placed them in their required order before looking at us. “Good afternoon.” Then his eyes landed on me.

“Oh, my God! It is you! Bill Cunningham! I can’t believe it!”

I stood, walked over to him, and firmly shook his hand. “How have you been, Doug?”

Doug gave me a big hug. “This is unbelievable! It’s so wonderful to see you, Bill.”

After our happy greeting, I took my seat and Doug spoke, “They told me you were alive, but I didn’t believe them. This is so remarkable! To think all these years have gone by believing you were dead. You’ll have to excuse my emotions. This has been such a shock.”

Doug gained his composure and began to explain about what he found in his files. “As you know, my father was more involved in your affairs than I, but I’ve read over the paperwork on the disposal of the business and other legal matters. As executor of your estate, my father hired Art Stafford, your accountant, and Charles Taggart, your personal advisor, to assist him in overseeing the business and carrying it to its closing about five years after your, uh, death. Many of the employees saw the writing on the wall and found jobs elsewhere. Art, Charles, and my father found jobs for those who were employed when the business closed. They made sure all outstanding bills were paid and employees received their final paychecks.

“As you know, your properties were paid off completely long before the incident, so there were no issues with mortgage payments. Regarding your bank accounts, the state requires all financial institutions to report intangible property they hold and consider unclaimed or abandoned. The property must be inactive for at least five years. At that time the unclaimed funds are deposited into the State School Fund and used to support our public schools. This did not occur with your accounts with the Nawinah Trust Bank. It is still sitting there and has been accumulating interest. Because you set up in writing the direct withdrawal by the county of your property taxes on all your land holdings, these accounts didn’t lay dormant or go to the state. However, your money in the Nawinah National Bank and the Orange Federal Bank was turned over to the state after Gunderson Groves closed and all debts were settled. The state is obligated to return your money when it’s made aware you’re still alive. I’ll start the procedure to get those funds returned to you. It may take a few months.

“I have duplicate copies of all correspondences sent to you from your various banks. For whatever reason, my father never stopped your directive to pay the taxes out of the Nawinah Trust Bank. Perhaps he thought a relative of yours would eventually be found. I only know that after checking with that bank and the county, your taxes have been paid in full on all properties, and you are clear of any debt. Periodically, the city monitored your house to keep the windows and doors boarded up and to chase any squatters away. Other than that, the house and the groves have sat vacant all these years. I’m surprised you never saw any police or workers on your property.”

I interrupted, “Oh, I saw them, but they didn’t see me. I was aware of most who trespassed on my property, as Danielle and Joel can assure you.”

Doug put down the files. “That’s basically all I have. Do you have any questions?”

Joel asked, “Since these murders were never solved, and we now have additional information, we plan to reopen the case. Do you think it would be wise to let it be known Mr. Cunningham is still alive?”

“Frankly, Joel, you’ll have no choice. Bill is fundamental to the case. Once he comes forward, it’ll blow the case wide open. You’ll first need to convince the police that Bill is not the killer. I hope you are prepared. If the police believe Bill is innocent, they may try to keep it quiet as long as possible, but somehow, it’ll leak out. The minute Bill goes to his bank to access his accounts, he’s exposed to recognition. My suggestion would be to first go to the police to find out how they want to handle the situation. Bill will need documents proving he is who he claims to be. Bill, do you have copies of any personal documents?”

“Yes, I have a copy of my birth certificate with me today. My baptismal record is in my safety deposit box at the Nawinah Trust Bank, which I plan to retrieve ASAP. I also have documents in that box with my signature on them, such as insurance and property records.”

“Take those with you when you go to the police. You may also need to show them to the bank.”

Doug hesitated while looking around the room. “Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

I reached to the floor for my briefcase. “I have some papers for you to see and give me your advice.”

I removed Clay Jackson and my birth certificates and the letter from Jackson. I handed the birth certificates to Doug. “Here is my birth certificate and that of another person who I suspect is my half-brother. Please look them over and tell me what you think.”

Surprised, Doug asked, “Your half-brother?”

“Please, just look at the documents. Then I’ll explain.”

Doug took the creased birth certificates and laid them on the table. He picked up my birth certificate, briefly looking it over. “What am I looking for here, Bill? This looks like a normal birth certificate.”

“Look at the number of children born to my mother.”

He glanced through the document, searching for the information. I could see in his face the minute he found it. “Oh, Bill, you had a sibling!”

“Now look at the other birth certificate.”

He laid my birth certificate aside and picked up the other one. After several minutes of reading the data, he asked, “Apparently, you knew nothing about this child?”

“Let me show you a letter my mother received.” I took the letter out of the envelope.

Doug grasped the letter by its corner, laid it on the table, and read its contents. When he was finished, he picked up the other birth certificate and looked back and forth, reading the data on both documents. “I must say, this is truly a shock. Do you know anything about this Clay Jackson?”

“No, I found these documents shortly before I left my property. My mother never talked about her time in the sanatorium let alone any pregnancy or baby. I was mystified when I found the letter and birth certificate. We haven’t had time to determine if he’s alive or dead. That’s my priority. I wanted your advice on how to handle this. Do we first try to locate him, or do we inform the police and let them find him?”

“Bring this up with the police. This is something very important to consider when they review your case. May I make copies of these documents for my files?”

He picked up the phone on the credenza. “Jill, come to the conference room. I have some documents for you to copy. Wear rubber gloves.”

After retrieving my originals, we left Doug’s office and went back to Andrew’s house to plan our next course of action.