The Boaz Scorekeeper, written in 2017, is my second novel. I'll post it, a chapter a day, over the next few weeks.
Wednesday, November 22, 1997 was the second worse day of my life. It was the day before Thanksgiving and I was in the library researching the admissibility of an excited utterance for a murder case I was working on out of Dekalb County. Tina tapped on the door, stuck her head in and said, “there is a Loree Nielson here that wants to see you.” I immediately recalled the day Tina had announced Cynthia Radford’s phone call. I hoped Ms. Nielson’s personal visit would be a similarly good surprise. I was not disappointed.
I had Tina bring her into the library. Loree was the sister of James Adams and the daughter of David and Sara Adams. Loree told me that her mother lay dying at Gadsden Memorial Hospital and had asked Loree to see if I could come speak with her. The only thing Loree knew was that it concerned the two girls who went missing 25 years ago.
I drove my car following Loree in hers. I met with Mrs. Adams. She thanked me for coming and told me that she had to confess a secret before she died. She kept asking me to forgive her. Much to my satisfaction, the story Mrs. Adams gave me started off much like the one Cynthia Radford had described. Their sons had both come home late Saturday morning distraught and panicked. David, her husband, left with James and didn’t return for several hours. He made her promise that she would never tell anyone what had happened. David told her that all ten of them, the Flaming Five and each of their fathers, met, took two vehicles, and drove to Little Cove Road where the two girls and their car were hidden. Surprisingly, one of the girls was still alive. The fathers quickly assessed the life-altering trouble their five sons were in and took control.
Franklin Ericson said they could not leave the bodies with their car and suggested they take them to his farm off Martin Road. That’s what they did, leaving the little blue Plymouth Valiant hidden off Little Cove Road. Ericson had a front-end loader that he had rented to deepen a dried-up pond. He used it to dig a hole on the back side of the property. David Adams and Walter Tillman stayed behind and made everyone else leave. David told Mrs. Adams that he could not bury Wendi alive. He said that one of the boys had identified her as the one who was still living. David told Mrs. Adams how he had used an old cushion from the tractor to smother Wendi. Then, Pastor Tillman said a prayer and David buried the two girls. He used Franklin’s front-end loader to push the trunk of a fallen tree over the grave.
Mrs. Adams told me that her secret had haunted her ever since James had shared the horrible news that fateful Saturday morning.
Sara Adams died Thanksgiving morning around 7:00 a.m. After I had met with her on Wednesday, I had returned to the office and tried to find a court reporter who would meet me at the hospital to properly record her testimony. The earliest I could arrange was Friday morning. However, that was an appointment Sara failed to keep.
I thought all weekend about what Wendi must have gone through. First, she was struck repeatedly with a shovel. Then, refusing to die while choosing to fight with the hope she could survive a most horrible nightmare, she was smothered to death and pushed into a forgotten grave.
I knew that David Adams was a murderer and Pastor Tillman just as guilty. But, I also knew that even though they could be prosecuted, it was unlikely they would ever be convicted. What admissible evidence would the prosecutor have? Neither David or the Pastor would confess. Who else knew exactly what had happened after these two criminals had made the others leave? Even if the Flaming Five and the other three fathers knew, they would never breathe a word. I even doubted whether Loree knew. Her mother would only talk with me after Loree had left the room.
After spending most of the long Thanksgiving weekend holed up in my study at home, I decided I would keep this information to myself. I wouldn’t even share it with Matt. I knew if I did he would tell me I had to share Mrs. Adams’ story with the District Attorney. I also knew in my heart that getting justice for Wendi and Cindi would not come from the Marshall County criminal justice system. I could only hope that Bill and Nellie Murray would win their wrongful death lawsuit letting the world know the truth about the Flaming Five.
Richard L. Fricks 