by J. W. Lucas
We got the Judge comfortably settled in Lindsey’s car, a Nissan Murano, and I couldn’t help but notice the back was loaded with suitcases and garment bags. We were on the road a little after twelve thirty.
Our ride down Route 7 was uneventful. After we crossed over into Massachusetts I saw in my rearview mirror that the unmarked car backed off. We were on our own. As we pulled into my driveway I was surprised to see that Mandy was already there standing outside by the garage talking with Bernie and Erik. I parked, and I got out to help the Judge from the car.
“Daryl, this is a magnificent property,” he said. I introduced Bernie and Erik, and Lindsey took a walker out of the car. The Judge waved it off and asked for the cane he had been given at the hospital. We went inside and got him settled in the family room. Lindsey came up to me and gave me a long hug.
“Daryl, I had no idea your house was this beautiful. It’s huge!” I could see Mandy was standing in the background, and she had a smile and look of contentment.
“Lindsey, let me show you the house, and where your bedroom is,” she said and led her through the kitchen toward the master. Bernie had already switched on her nursing persona and was getting the Judge situated in a recliner, complete with an afghan in case he got a chill. She offered him some juice or tea, and he commented that he could use a good cup of coffee. “Coming right up,” she said cheerfully, as she switched on the TV and handed him the remote.
Mandy and Lindsey came back to the kitchen and Lindsey gushed about how beautiful everything was and thanked me again for allowing the Judge and her stay with us. Mandy, Erik and I helped Lindsey bring her luggage into the master and about forty-five minutes later the Morans were settled in.
Bernie had cooked us a roast to be re-heated in gravy for dinner, and the three women chatted in the kitchen. I went in and sat down across from the Judge and asked if we could talk. I took the TV remote, turned the volume down, and sat down in the couch across from him.
I told him of the fiasco at the jail, and that the intruder’s whereabouts were now unknown. He didn’t comment, just shook his head in disbelief. I told him I was helping to apply for a Federal arrest warrant and expected that the US Attorney’s office would pursue identifying the true identity of the imposter lawyer and file charges if they were successful. He nodded his understanding.
“Judge, Lindsey told me that when you came back from Montpelier you brought home some files, and that she sensed that whatever they contained concerned you.”
He looked at me and didn’t speak. “Your Honor, I need to know. What was troubling you?” I asked. He looked around to see that no one was listening,
“Daryl, the Attorney General’s Office received intelligence from an undercover agent who has infiltrated the group at that so-called survival camp, and he’s reporting that they’re planning some large-scale acts of domestic terrorism to upset the coming election. When I say terrorism, I mean pipe bombs and drive-by shootings, not protest rallies. They’re aligned with Warren Donnelly and Sheriff Hunter and some of his underlings. The informant has been wearing a wire on and off and learned that Hunter and his detectives are leading the financing of their plans with the sale of drugs. He’s provided the AG with recordings that indicate they have a chemist who’s lacing heroin with doses of fentanyl, and they plan to saturate the street sales market to drive up the overdose deaths and then capitalize on the State’s failure to stem the tide of deaths. This all came to light after Susan Peterson was murdered. The informant thinks that Susan somehow stumbled onto their plans and they thought she was going to the State Police or FBI with her suspicions.”
“Does the informant have any ideas on who murdered her?”
“Not from what I’ve learned.”
“Sir, with what you’ve told me about their terrorism plans, why haven’t the FBI and Homeland Security been brought in? Terrorism is their game.”
“Apparently this information is very fresh, and the State didn’t have the recordings from the wire until three days before I was shot.”
“The plan was to bring in the Federal authorities, but I have to suspect that some of the delay in doing that had some political considerations at play. The informant reported that Hunter had received a shipment of automatic weapons, riot control chemicals, and body armor through some Federal grants. They were supposed to be intended for his deputies, but the undercover agent said they were taken up to the camp. I had made some phone calls from my office to the General Accounting Office in Washington. I wanted documents on any Federal grants that the Abbot Sheriffs had been awarded, and I pressed them to send me the documents as soon as possible.”
I sat back in the couch and thought about what he had just told me.
“But Judge, why would they target you?” I asked.
“Daryl, that question had been haunting me while I was in the
hospital. Then it dawned on me when you told me you thought my office may be wiretapped.”
“Okay, I think I follow you,” I said. “If your calls were intercepted, they knew you were trying to get some hard evidence to bring to the FBI.”
“Exactly. Now I realize why the civil suit was brought by the surrounding neighbors. I was assigned to referee the case that complained that the camp had built a firearms facility and were using automatic weapons. There was no proof of automatic weapons at the time, no tape recordings of gunfire or anything like that. I was able to get the parties to agree on a limitation on the hours the firing range could be used.”
I paused for a moment to process what he had told me when Mandy came into the room. “Lindsey and I are going to have some wine before dinner; can I make you gentlemen anything to drink? It’s reported that I have some experience in that field!”
The Judge and I laughed, and he said, “Mandy if you promise not to tell my wife, I would love a Scotch on the rocks, light on the rocks.” “Judge Moran, a bartender is a lot like a lawyer. Our conversation is privileged!” Mandy delivered a Scotch for the Judge and my VO and coke. She grabbed a bottle of wine and glasses and went back to the kitchen.
I saw the Judge watch her walk out the room and he turned back to me.
“Daryl, Mandy is an exceptionally beautiful and sweet young woman, I truly hope that you have plans to marry her.”
I took a sip of my drink and told him that we had only known each other for a short time, but I sensed that Mandy would be in my future.
“Forrest Moran what are you drinking?” asked Lindsey with a grin as she came into the room. “I leave you alone for a few minutes and look what mischief you’ve gotten into. Is Scotch on your diet?”
“If it isn’t my Dear, we should call the doctor immediately and insist that he add it,” he quipped as he took a sip.
“Seriously my husband, don’t overdo it. You’re still shaky on your feet as it is.”
“Yes Dear,” he acknowledged her sheepishly.
“Daryl, I can’t tell you enough how beautiful your house is, I saw the master bath; it’s like a spa in there,” Lindsey commented.
“Thank you. I want you and Judge Moran to make yourselves at home. Please feel free to enjoy the place.” She said they would and went back into the kitchen.
“Judge, I need to ask you, at the time of the lawsuit who owned the camp property?”
“As I recall it was owned by a holding company, and the agent for service was a law firm in New Jersey. One of their lawyers appeared in Court with an attorney from Rutland. I allowed the out-of-state attorney to participate just to move the case along. I must say that the two of them were never students of mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“The New Jersey fellow, I’m drawing a blank on his name, started out to be rude and belligerent. He was wearing a thousand-dollar suit and had an air about him that he thought I should be impressed with his presence. I was sure he wasn’t from one of New Jersey’s premier firms. I cut him short in quick order, and made it clear he was in my court room as a courtesy, and that he ha
d no legal standing in Vermont. Daryl, I want to ask you, what is your next step on this case? As beautiful as your house is, there’s no place like home.”
“I understand Sir. I have some support from the State Police and am planning to execute some search warrants on Monday, possibly into Tuesday.”
I told him that I would seize the bullets that they removed from him during surgery and submit them for analysis by the crime lab. Hopefully we could learn the type and make of the weapons used.
I explained that some Federal electronics experts were coming in to do a sweep of the court house for eavesdropping equipment.
“And if you find that evidence?” I hesitated to answer, but felt I owed him full disclosure.
“I stumbled across what I think is a microwave transmission link between the courthouse and the house next door. I think the intercepted conversations are being transmitted to that house.”
“But that’s Billy Barnum’s house. Do you mean to tell me that you think Billy…?”
“Yes, Billy is a strong suspect.”
The Judge drew a deep breath and sighed heavily. “And if you find such equipment, what will you do? Remove it?”
“I’m not sure. I’m toying with the idea to leave it place and set up a sting operation. You know, stage a conversation and see if we get a response from Billy or anyone else he may be working with. I suspect that he’s part of this case, but he’s not the mastermind. Are you aware that Billy is reportedly wealthy?”
“I’m aware that his family had extensive land holdings in the County, and over the year his relatives have died off. I believe that he’s the last of the Barnum family.”
“Well, although the land records are clouded with some property transfers and quit claims, the land the survivalist camp is on, two hundred acres, was owned by Billy and he leased it out and later transferred the title.”
“I wasn’t aware of that. Who did he transfer the land to?” “Something called the Patriot Foundation.The Foundation filed some papers with the State that document Warren Donnelly and Sheriff Hunter as the managing entity.”
“That’s incredible!” Judge Moran said in complete disbelief.
“It gets better,” I continued. “Donnelly’s new office building in North Bellington was owned by Billy Barnum who transferred the title to Warren Donnelly for one dollar!”
“That’s even more incredible! Daryl, do you have the documents to back all this up?” Judge Moran was getting excited. And angry.
“Yes, the US Attorney’s office in Boston did the research for me. It’s all there.”
“Daryl, are there any secrets left in the village of Ethan Falls? It sounds like you’ve found them all.”
“Not all, your honor. I still need to prove who killed Susan and shot you.”
Lindsey came into the room and asked the Judge if he would be able to eat some dinner around seven. He said he was a little tired and thought he should lie down a bit. Lindsey and I helped him to the bedroom, and I left them for her to get him settled. About ten minutes later she came out to the kitchen where I was helping Mandy make a salad. “You know Daryl; I think your talk with Forrest wore him out. He needs to eat, but I’m afraid he’ll be asleep in a few minutes.”
“I was afraid of that Lindsey. I’m sorry if I upset his routine. Why don’t you let him sleep? Later we can fix him a plate. I think we still have the hospital bedside table we used when my Aunt was sick, I’ll call Bernie to see where she put it.”
“I do think that he needs to be using his walker and put his arm back in the sling too. Sometimes he can be so stubborn!”
I left the women in the kitchen and sat out on the deck for a while. A little before seven Mandy came out and told me that dinner was almost ready. Judge Moran was sound asleep, so the three of us dined on Bernie’s re-heated roast, and Mandy’s whipped potatoes, salad, and brown and serve rolls.
I must say, both women knew how to get to a man’s heart. After we ate I tried to help clear the table, but the women banished me from the kitchen.
Bernie and Erik knocked on the kitchen door and I saw they were bringing in the hospital bedside table. “Erik wrapped it in plastic and stored it in the garage,” Bernie said. “I think Judge Moran needs bed rest, so try to encourage him to sleep when he feels tired, and not to worry about eating in the bedroom.” Lindsey thanked them and moved the table to the bedroom.
Our night was uneventful, Lindsey fixed her husband a dinner plate around eight and bid us goodnight as she delivered it. Mandy and I settled into the family room.
She asked if she and I could take a ride in the morning as it would be Sunday and the Morans could have some privacy. I agreed and in the morning after breakfast, we drove into Lennox, visited some shops and had lunch. We had a fun day, and I felt rested. We got back to the house and Lindsey told us that the Judge spent most of the day sleeping or sitting on the couch in the bedroom watching TV.
A little after eight I got a phone call from State Police Sgt. Jon Michaels.
“Daryl, sorry to call you late on a Sunday night, but I just got off the phone with Captain Merrill in Major Crimes. He said his warrant team is going to hit the Sheriff’s offices in Hamilton and Ethan Falls at ten AM sharp Tuesday morning. He has some FBI agents and six of his detectives for that, but he needs Monday to set things up. He wants us to hit the doctor’s office Tuesday exactly at ten. We’ll have two FBI agents, and two of my guys. Merrill said we can execute the warrant for the bullets the hospital’s holding later in the afternoon. You okay with that?”
This wasn’t my plan, but I must admit that I was impressed with the organization of these Green Mountain cops!
“That works for me, Jon. Do you think you could round up another two or three people for us to go into the courthouse around one AM Wednesday morning? I think I can get the electronics techs up here from Boston Tuesday afternoon. I want them to look at the antenna setup I described to them while there’s still daylight.”
“Okay, that’s our plan then. I’ll text Merrill and tell him it’s a go. My team will meet you in your hotel parking lot at nine Tuesday morning. See you then.”
Mandy was in the family room on the computer, and I interrupted her and told her that I didn’t have to go up to Bellington until Tuesday morning. She was happy and said we’d find something to do. We rested and watched TV until we went to bed around ten.
Monday morning came, and Judge Moran ate a good breakfast and sat out on the deck. The Visiting Nurse arrived, and Mandy called Bernie, who came up to the house to help with the Judge’s bandage changes.
I spent some time roughing out a search warrant application for Billy Barnum’s house in the event my hunch that he was intercepting courthouse conversations was correct.
Around noon Mandy came into the family room and told me that she got an email with some great news.
“My Master’s thesis was accepted, and I’ve earned my MBA! She said excitedly. “HOORAY! Finally, after all that work, I DID IT!!”
“Honey I am so proud of you Congratulations! We’ll have to do something special to celebrate. What would you like?”
“Daryl, I don’t want anything special. I just want you to finish up your work in Ethan Falls and come home safe to me. I just want our life together to move on.”
“I promise that I’ll do everything I can to finish my work as quickly as possible. I’m tired, and I just want to be with you and relax.” She gave me a soft kiss and said “I love you Daryl Richardson. I pray that you’ll be safe. That’s all I want.”
I went out to the deck and told Judge Moran and Lindsey about Mandy’s good news, and that I wanted to do something special for her.”
“Why don’t you buy her a diamond?” Lindsey offered, “I know it’s only been a couple of weeks that you’ve been with her, but it’s like you two are a married couple already!”
“I don’t know about that Lindsey. Mandy made a comment to me that she wanted to wait a year before we talked about anything perm
anent.”
“I can almost understand what she’s saying Daryl, but that girl really loves you. Maybe you need to take charge of your personal life instead of work.”
Judge Moran spoke up. “Lindsey, some things between a man and a woman are very private. I’m confident that Daryl will know what to do.” She looked at her husband and accepted his benign rebuke.
“I know Dear, but I just want Daryl and Mandy to be together, to share their lives. They have such opportunities open to them.”
“We do Lindsey,” I said. “And to your point, Mandy and I have talked a little about her helping me set up a Foundation or trust for some philanthropic donations. I was hoping that you would help her with that.”
“Of course, I’ll help her. I’ll have to do some research, but I’m sure we can write something up. Do you have any idea what you want to call it?”
“Yes, the Stonegarden Foundation,” I answered.
“And I hate to ask such a personal question, but how much would you be funding it with?” I hesitated a moment but thought that if Lindsey was going to do the legal work, she needed to know my net worth.
“Mandy took a look at my stock holdings last week and told me that the portfolio is worth about sixty million dollars.” “WHAT? SIXTY MILLION DOLLARS? How is that possible, I mean, did you know that you were worth that much?” “Honestly I didn’t. My lawyers in Boston manage Aunt Clarice’s estate and I haven’t paid as much attention as I should have. I thought it was around thirty million between the house, bank accounts and stocks. Judge Moran and Lindsey were shocked and looked at each other. Lindsey regained her composure and said, “Daryl when you get a minute please write down the name of your lawyer’s firm. And it would help me if you could call them and explain that I’ll be working to set up your Foundation. I’m sure that they’ve been billing you a lot to manage your funds, and they’re not going to be very happy about losing that business.”