Geismar stayed with Verna Hatch and the children until her mother arrived, then fled the house as quickly as possible. He would forever live with the horror, the shock, the agony, the sheer madness of the family hearing the news that Hugo would not be coming home, and then trying to convince each other that it simply could not be true. At times he was the villain, the hated messenger unduly burdened with the task of convincing them that Hugo was in fact dead.
He had never experienced such raw, emotional devastation, nor would he ever again endure such a nightmare. He caught himself weeping as he left Tallahassee in the predawn hours. He arrived in Panama City just after 6:00 a.m.
13
Lacy was stable but still unconscious. The initial diagnosis included a gash to the left side of her head that required twenty-four stitches, a concussion that was causing swelling of the brain, abrasions on her face, the result of the violent sliding contact with the air bag, and small cuts on her neck, left shoulder, left elbow, hand, and knee. Her head was shaved and her doctors decided to keep her in an induced coma for at least twenty-four hours. One of them explained to Geismar that it would be a day or two before they could assess further damage, but he saw nothing, so far, that could be considered life threatening.
Her mother, Ann Stoltz, arrived from Clearwater at 8:00 a.m., along with Ann’s sister, Trudy, and her husband, Ronald. They huddled with Michael, who passed along all the information he had, which wasn’t much.
Once they were settled, Michael left and drove to the reservation. He waited half an hour at the police station until Lyman Gritt arrived for work. The constable explained that they were still investigating the accident but this much was known: The collision obviously happened when the truck crossed the center line and struck the Prius. The truck was stolen and was registered to a man in Alabama. No sign of the driver, but it appeared as though he had been drinking. No one saw him leave the scene and they had found no trace of him. The passenger’s side air bag did not deploy and Mr. Hatch was not wearing a seat belt. His injuries were substantial, he had an obvious head injury, and he appeared to have bled to death. “Would you like to see the photographs?”
“Maybe later.”
“Would you like to see the vehicles?”
“Yes, I would,” Michael replied.
“Okay, we’ll do that and I’ll take you to the scene.”
“There seem to be quite a few unanswered questions.”
“We’re still investigating, sir,” Gritt said. “Perhaps you could shed some light on their activities here last night.”
“Perhaps, but not yet. We’ll get to that later.”
“An investigation will require full cooperation, sir. I need to know everything. What were they doing here?”
“I can’t give you those details right now,” Geismar said, fully aware that he was only adding to the suspicion. At that moment, though, he couldn’t afford to trust anyone. “Look, a man has been killed in a very suspicious car wreck. I need your word that the vehicles will be impounded and preserved until someone can examine them.”
“Someone? Who do you have in mind, sir?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Need I remind you that this happened on Tappacola land and we do the investigating around here? No one looks over our shoulder.”
“Sure, I understand that. I’m just a bit rattled, okay? Give me some time to think this through.”
Gritt stood and walked to a table in the corner of his office. “Take a look at this stuff,” he said. In the center of the table there was a large, stylish lady’s handbag and next to it was a set of keys. Two feet away was a wallet and keys. Michael stepped closer and stared at them. Gritt said, “When there is a fatality, we normally go through the personal effects and make an inventory. I haven’t done that yet. I opened the wallet only to retrieve a business card. That’s how I found you. I have not looked inside the purse.”
“Where are their cell phones?” Michael asked.
Gritt was already shaking his head. “No cell phones. We checked all of his pockets and searched the car and found none.”
“That’s impossible,” Michael said, stunned. “Someone took their cell phones.”
“Are you sure they had them?”
“Of course. Who doesn’t carry a cell phone? And their phones would have their most recent calls, including the ones to the guy they were supposed to meet.”
“And who was this guy?”
“I don’t know. I swear.” Michael was rubbing his eyes. He suddenly gasped and asked, “What about their briefcases?”
Gritt shook his head again. “No sign of briefcases.”
“I need to sit down.” Michael fell into a chair at the table and stared in shock at the personal effects.
“Would you like some water?” Gritt asked.