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http://www.dispatch.com/live/content/local_news/stories/2010/09/06/woman-left-work-vanished.html
Killers Among Us
Woman left work, vanished
Single mother was going on vacation with married man
Monday, September 6, 2010 02:51 AM
By Holly Zachariah
THE COLUMBUS DISPATCH
MARYSVILLE, Ohio - It's only a single speck of blood, no bigger than if someone had swatted a bug.
But that speck inside a vial on an evidence-room shelf could be all it takes to solve the 9-year-old mystery of what happened to Patricia "Patti" Adkins.
The last thing anyone knows for certain about the 29-year-old single mom, who was a second-shift assembly-line supervisor, is that she punched out at Marysville's Honda of America plant after working her shift on June 29, 2001. It was 19 seconds after midnight.
"Then she walked out into the night and disappeared," said detective Jeff Stiers of the Union County sheriff's office.
Stiers is confident that Patti was killed, although her body has never been found. In 2006, a Union County judge declared her dead, and her family - including her only child, a daughter, now 16 - has tried to hold on to their memories and let go of their anger.
"I have never fully grieved for my sister because the pain is so overwhelming," said Marcia Pitts, one of Patti's four siblings and the one closest to her in age and spirit.
"You can't come to terms with it because your mind wants this to be rational. And it isn't. There is nothing rational about someone just vanishing from this Earth."
Patti had everything going for her when she disappeared. She made good money at Honda in a job she had held for more than a decade. She was in line for a promotion.
She owned a well-kept home in a quiet subdivision. She and her ex-husband got along well for the sake of their daughter, Michaley, who was only 7 back then.
Patti loved the outdoors, shopped a lot and spoiled her golden retriever and her cats. She rarely lost at euchre during breaks at work. She occasionally went out with friends after work and was known to enjoy a Bud Light or two.
Those who knew her best say she was a happy, well-adjusted, independent woman, a devoted mother and sister and a loyal friend.
But she had a secret: She hated to be alone.
Perhaps that explains her long-term, on-again, off-again relationship with a married co-worker.
Her friends and sisters - even her ex-husband, her banker and her hairdresser - knew of the affair. She told those closest to her that she knew it was wrong, but that he was going to leave his wife someday. He swore it. She just had to help him first.
So Patti gave him money - about $90,000 over a couple of years, by the detective's accounting of her retirement account, her savings and her loans - to get his family businesses out of hock.
Then, they would be together. He promised.
Stiers thinks that Patti believed her new life was to start June 29 at midnight when the Honda plant closed for its weeklong Fourth of July shutdown.
Patti had told many people about her vacation plans, mentioning a few possible destinations. A remote cabin in Canada was the most common.
She said that her boyfriend had said she wouldn't be able to call home once they arrived because there was no phone service and that she shouldn't bring anything with her because they would buy whatever they needed when they got there.
She asked Marcia to help care for Michaley while she was gone. She kenneled her pets.
She asked a friend, LaDonna Wolding, to drive her to work so she could leave with her boyfriend after the shift.
But, in Stiers' mind, this was the most bizarre thing of all: Patti told LaDonna that she was going to have to hide in the bed of her boyfriend's pickup truck for a while until they'd dropped a buddy he commuted with at home.
Patti didn't follow every instruction, however. She had to bring something, she told LaDonna. She took a small, teal-colored duffel bag. She said it held something new from Victoria's Secret. She said it was blue, his favorite color.
The bag and the clothes were never found.
After Patti disappeared, the boyfriend was questioned. He has been interrogated time and again. He denies any relationship with Patti. He said she was just a co-worker, that he had even floated her a little lunch money a time or two.
His wife told investigators her husband had had no affair; the friend who rode to work with him that night denies knowing anything at all.
They all told authorities that, although it is tragic, they cannot help solve this mystery.
Not long after Patti was reported missing, the man gave authorities permission to search his home and businesses. They even dug up a recently poured concrete pad.
All proved fruitless - until someone noticed a new tonneau cover in the garage.
He had only just bought it, he said, and had it on his truck bed for just a few days to cover some fishing gear.
Forensic analysts examined it for evidence. They turned up a few cat hairs. Patti's veterinarian confirmed they came from her animals.
And they found a single spot of blood. Investigators think it is Patti's.
But real life isn't like a TV crime show. Results aren't immediate, action isn't always quick. Often, blood and body-fluid samples are tested repeatedly over time as methods to provide more-accurate results develop and advance.
This sample is so small that there will be no second chance, and technology hasn't quite yet caught up.
"We get one shot at this, and we know it," said Union County Prosecutor David Phillips. "One. That's it."
So they wait.
What Stiers really must do is find Patti's body.
He concedes that she could be anywhere. It is as if she clocked out and was simply swallowed by the darkness.
All of Honda's property as well as thousands of acres across three counties were searched on foot and by horseback and four-wheeler, and from cars, trucks, helicopters and airplanes.
Divers have scraped the bottoms of quarries and sunk special cameras deep into ponds. Dogs trained to find dead bodies have run through thickets and woods.
"You name it, we've heard it all," Stiers said. "But we keep looking. If we get a tip that she's behind the oak tree, then we go look behind the oak tree."
He has, of course, considered that his theory could be wrong. What if Patti simply took off, sought a fresh start? What if the boyfriend changed his mind, dumped her out somewhere and, wandering the dark countryside alone, she was hurt?
Over the years, the detective has pored over Patti's records, chased down leads, traced rumors and interviewed potential suspects - former boyfriends, co-workers, even a homeless guy said to have bothered a few local women at that time.
"To keep your eye on just one theory, one person would be a mistake," he said.
So he keeps searching for a body but mostly chasing ghosts.
And Marcia, who teaches math and coaches sports at Marion Harding High School and has helped raise Michaley in her Marion home, searches for peace.
She pauses, just for a second or two, each time she hears a news anchor say a body has been found. She takes comfort whenever it is identified: "Even if I didn't get answers, someone did."
Her heart races whenever her caller ID flashes the sheriff's office phone number. She's grateful the authorities still call to remind her they are working hard, that they care.
And sometimes, every now and then, she still cries. Just last week, more than nine years after she last spoke to Patti, she called her sister's old phone number by mistake.
Time, she says, simply cannot change some things.
hzachariah@dispatch.com