Second Chair, A Stan Turner Mystery, Vol.4

by William Manchee

  Chapter 4

  Strategy

   

  It was dark outside when I left the house to jog a couple of miles before breakfast. I called my dog, Beauty, and she came bounding down the stairway from Mark's room where she usually slept. She was a year old–an impulse purchase from the local pet store. I hadn't planned on getting a dog but the kids fell in love with her and gave me a hard sell. They promised they’d feed and exercise her every day without fail. Two weeks later when the novelty was over Beauty became my responsibility whether I wanted it or not.

   Rebekah wouldn't allow Beauty in the master bedroom. She was not a dog lover, having had some unfortunate experiences with dogs as a child. Being a lawyer's wife was tough enough, she would say, without having to compete with the dog in the bedroom.

  There was a cool northerly breeze that almost made me change my mind about running, I knew I needed the exercise or I'd be sluggish all day. Jogging for me was therapy. It was a time that I could be alone and think. When I was at home, I was always conversing with Rebekah or one of the kids. When I got to the office, it would be the phone and the minute by minute pressure to get work done that would occupy my every second.

  Beauty ran ahead anxious to see what was around the corner. Periodically she would stop to savor the myriad of smells of the neighborhood and wait for me to catch up. For the first time I began to think about Sarah and whether she was telling the truth. The one thing I couldn't tolerate was a client being less than candid. That could be deadly for both of us. If she were guilty I needed to know it, and the sooner the better. It occurred to me that Sarah may actually believe she was innocent even though she was actually guilty. Her blacking out or lapse of memory could be simply a defense mechanism to protect her from the horrid truth.

  When Beauty and I got back to the house, we entered through the back gate. I loved the early morning because it was so quiet, so peaceful and uncomplicated. I knew once the sun came up the day would get hectic in a hurry, so I relaxed and enjoyed the simple pleasure of playing with my dog.

  "Okay girl, where's the frisbee?" I said. Beauty began running around furiously searching for her favorite toy. When she found it, she ran back to me and laid it at my feet.

  "Good girl," I said and then threw the frisbee the length of the yard. Beauty took off, catching up with it and grabbing it before it hit the ground.

  "Nice catch," I yelled.

  Beauty ran back and jumped up on me. I took one end of the toy and wrestled her for it until finally she let go. She watched me, waiting impatiently for me to throw it again. As I was about to throw it one more time, I heard the back door open and Rebekah call out.

  "Honey. Breakfast is ready."

  "Okay, be right there." I looked at Beauty and shook my head. "Sorry girl, time to go." I went to the faucet, turned on the water and filled Beauty's water bowl. Then I went into the garage, came back with a large bag of Purina dog chow and poured out a day's ration into her bowl.

  When I came in, Rebekah and the children were already finished eating. I sat down and dug into the plate of steaming pancakes and started to read the paper. After Rebekah got Reggie and Mark off to school, she came back into the kitchen with Marcia and Peter. I was just getting up to leave.

  "I've gotta go, I've got a couple bankruptcy hearings first thing this morning and I need to go see Marleen Wiggins after that to get started on Bobby's probate."

  "Oh, I hope she's doing okay. Say hi to her for me, would you?"

  "I will."

  Rebekah came over and gave me a kiss goodbye. On the way out I picked up Marcia, hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. Then I gave Peter a squeeze before opening the door to the garage.

  "Drive carefully," Rebekah said. "I love you."

  "I love you too, bye."

  When I got to the office, Jodie was anxiously waiting for me. "You've got to leave for bankruptcy court Stan, you only have twenty-five minutes to get to the courthouse. I've got all your files ready."

  "Thanks Jodie, I lost track of time this morning."

  "Don't forget you've got to be back for your luncheon appointment with Harry at 11:30."

  "Yeah, I'm going to try to stop by Marleen Wiggins house if I have time. Then I'll go straight to Carelli's. Give me my phone messages and I'll return them while I'm waiting for the judge to get to my cases."

  Jodie quickly walked into my office and pulled the phone messages off the message clip and brought them to me. "Here you go, don't forget you've got Mohammed Barabi coming in to review a construction contract at two."

  "I won't, thanks, see you after lunch." Fortunately I got out of bankruptcy court early enough to go by Marleen's house. She answered the door, seemingly pleased to see me, then invited me in. We went into the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table cluttered with bills and records. She looked pale and rather sickly, not the robust lady I was used to. After forty-five years of marriage I guess it is quite a shock to the system to suddenly be alone.

  "How are you holding up?" I asked.

  "Fair, I guess."

  "How is the family taking it? You've got quite a few grandchildren, don't you?"

  "Seven. It’s been hard on them. They were all very close to Bobby. There’s a lot of bitterness."

  Bitterness. Had she carefully picked that word to let me know trouble was coming? I wondered.

  "Have you got a death certificate yet?"

  "Yes," she said and then dug through a stack of documents until she found it.

  "Good, all I'll need now is a complete list of all your assets and liabilities."

  Being in a hurry I suggested she put it together and mail it to me, but she insisted on telling me about everything she had item by item. After we finished the list, I started gathering my things to leave when I remembered the question I had wanted to ask her. "Oh, I was thinking about the last conversation I had with Bobby. He was about to tell me about some sort of problem he was having. Do you know what he was going to tell me?"

  Marleen frowned. She lowered her eyes and took a slow deep breath as she contemplated the question. "I don't know. Did he tell you anything at all about it?"

  "No. He said he was going to come see me the following Monday."

  She shrugged. "Bobby didn't talk much about business. I'm a worrier and he didn't want to burden me with business matters."

  "Did you sense there was a problem at work?"

  "Yes, it was obvious something was bothering him, but he didn’t share it with me.”

  “Did you ever figure out what it was?”

  “Not entirely,” she said, “but I have my suspicions.”

  "Well, tell me what you know."

  "I know it involved one of his clients."

  "Who?"

  "Oscar Valenti."

  "The builder?"

  "Right."

  "What kind of problem?"

  "I don't know, but Bobby was upset about it. He had several heated discussions over the phone with him."

  "Well, I'll talk to Oscar and see if I can find out what was going on between them. It might be helpful if I had access to your husband's client files."

  "Sure, I'll tell his partner to let you look at whatever you want."

  After leaving Marleen’s, I drove to Carelli's arriving at 11:45. I scanned the room and saw that Snake had already found a table. He waved so that I would see him. I walked over and took a seat.

  "Hey, you made it," Snake said. "I thought I might have to eat alone."

  "There was a big docket today and the judge was in a horrible mood. I was lucky to get out of there without being sanctioned. Then Marleen Wiggins wouldn't let me leave. She's lonely I guess with Bobby gone."

  "She didn't mention whether she's going to sue you?" Snake asked.

  "Hell no, I'm handling Bobby's probate and helping her tie up loose ends. She knows it was a freak accident. It certainly wasn't my fault Bobby fell."

   Snake shook his head. "You just better hope she never gets another l
awyer."

  "She won't. I'm not worried." It was a lie, of course. I was worried about it, but not as much as Rebekah. As much as I tried to forget about the possibility of a multimillion dollar wrongful death suit, Rebekah would invariably bring it up on a daily basis.

  "Good, now what's the deal with Sarah–what's her name?"

  "Winters," I said.

  "Right, Winters."

  I told Snake everything I knew about Sarah and the murder. The waiter came over and delivered some garlic bread and two glasses of water. He took our drink order.

  "So if Sarah didn't do it, who did?" Snake asked.

  "Well, I figure our two most likely suspects are the two boyfriends, Greg Peterson and Richard Stein. Greg is her current flame of about four months. Richard had the honors before that. I don't know much about them yet, but I've heard that Richard is bad news, a drug dealer and addict among other things. Greg, on the other hand, is a good kid, a journalism student like Sarah. He's finished college I understand and is now pursuing an MBA."

  "She learned her lesson, huh."

  "It seems so," I said.

  “Any witnesses?”

  "Let's see, there is a roommate named Michelle, my niece who lives next door, but that's about it, so far."

  "Okay, lets talk to each of them first and then the immediate family to see what they know," Snake said.

  "All right, we're going to need a shrink too."

  "I know just the guy, Dr. Gerhardt, Norman S. Gerhardt, PH.D."

  "Oh really, is he good?" I asked.

  "He's got credentials you wouldn't believe and juries love him. His PH.D. is from Yale and he even taught a few years at ASU as I recall. Now he has a practice here in Dallas and people come from all of the country just to see him. His specialty is hypnosis."

  "Good, after we get Sarah out on bond we'll have to send her to him for an evaluation."

  The waiter returned, explained the menu and took our orders. Then he brought us some hot garlic bread layered with melted cheese that totally distracted us from our work. We both took a bite and shook our heads.

  "Hmm. I love this stuff,” I said. “Okay, what about the bond, do you think we'll have any trouble?"

  "I don't think so, she's got a family, she’s enrolled in school, no prior arrest, I presume, so I don't think the judge could deny us bond," Snake replied.

  "Oh I talked to the prosecutor yesterday. Apparently you know him, Howard Hudson."

  "I figured they'd put Howie on this one. He's their best prosecutor plus he likes high profile trials. I've been told he's running for District Attorney since the current DA is retiring. I bet he begged the DA to give him this case."

  "He was thrilled to hear you were helping me out."

  Snake smiled and replied, "Really? I didn't know I had left such a profound impression."

  "He wanted you to know he hadn't forgotten the Miller case, whatever that means."

  "Oh yeah, the Miller case. I almost forgot about that. He was upset when I called his mother as a character witness for my client."

  They laughed. "Did you really?"

  "Uh huh, his mother is a high school teacher in McKinney and she actually had Jonathan Miller as a student. Out of ten or fifteen teachers I could have chosen, I thought she'd be the best character witness for him."

  I laughed, "Jesus, Howie must have been totally pissed."

  "He nearly had a heart attack, the judge had to call a ten minute recess. It was so funny."

  "I bet."

  When the waiter showed up with our orders, we took a break from our work to enjoy the fine cuisine.

  "Mmm. This food is good. We've got to come here more often," Snake said.

  "It wouldn't be good for either of our waistlines," I said. "Do you realize how many calories this stuff has?"

  "Who cares?"

  "What do you think the Judge will do about Sarah's bond?" I asked.

  "Well, let me see, who's the judge up there?"

  "Albert Brooks."

  "Oh yeah, Al Brooks, he's a good judge. Kind of laid back. He’ll cut us some slack in order to be sure Sarah gets a fair trial. Just don't get him pissed off though. He’s got a temper and can become mean and irritable in a hurry. My guess is he'll set a reasonable bond though. Maybe I can talk to Howie and we can agree on the amount."

  "I don't think so. The DA is opposing bond, but since you know him and he has such great admiration for you, maybe you should give it a try."

  "I will, I'll call him this afternoon," Snake said.

  After lunch we parted with the understanding that I would be first chair at Sarah's trial since that’s what the client wanted, but that Snake would work very closely with me as second chair to make sure Sarah got the best defense possible. I looked at my watch and saw I had only ten minutes to get to my meeting with Mohammed Barabi.

  As I was driving back to the office, it occurred to me that Barabi and Valenti probably knew each other. They were both high profile contractors in the North Dallas area and both had attended my party. I decided to ask Mohammed about him. After we had finished our business, I brought up the topic.

  "So can you believe what happened to Bobby Wiggins?" I said.

  "No, what a tragedy. Have the police got any leads yet?"

  "I don't think so."

  "I must say you throw an exciting party, Stan,” Mohammed noted. “I'm not sure I want an invitation next year though."

  I laughed. "Yeah, I doubt Rebekah will be up to a party next year. . . . Listen, I've been retained to handle Bobby's probate and I'm trying to wrap-up any business dealings he had in progress on the date of his death."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, right now I'm just gathering information, in fact, I have a question for you."

  "What's that?"

  "Did you know an Oscar Valenti?"

  "Sure, we run into each other a lot–being in the same business. We're not close friends or anything like that but we know each other well enough."

  "Do you know of anything unusual going on in his life?"

  "No, other than a drinking problem since his wife left him. I don't know if it's true, but I heard he was getting professional help."

  "Really? . . . Huh. Marleen says Bobby was having some kind of problem with him."

  "Right, that would probably be with the IRS."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Valenti doesn't believe in paying taxes. I don't know how he's got away with it for so long, but I think they were finally coming down on him."

  "So Bobby was probably trying to help him negotiate with the IRS?"

  "Most likely."

  "Bobby wasn't doing any work for you, was he?"

  "Sure, he was my accountant. Don't you remember? You introduced us."

  "Oh, right. . . . So what are you doing about your accounting now?”

  “Bobby's partner, Buddy Clark, has jumped right in and taken care of everything. I guess I'll just leave it with him."

  After my meeting with Mohammed Barabi I walked over to Jodie's desk and asked, "You haven't heard from Tom Winters, have you?"

  "No, he hasn't called."

  "Damn, he's supposed to come in and sign a retainer agreement and give me $10,000."

  "It's only 3:30 he may still make it," Jodie said.

  "I hope so, I already called the DA and told him I was representing his daughter."

  "What did Snake think about the case?"

  "I'm not sure he is as convinced of Sarah's innocence as I am."

  "Well, from reading the newspaper accounts I may be in his camp."

  "Come on now, I need you on my side. If we don't believe she's innocent how can we expect a jury to believe it?"

  "Well, I'll try to keep an open mind . . . Oh, by the way, a couple of newspaper reporters called today while you were at lunch. They wanted to confirm that you were handling Sarah's defense."

  "What did you tell them?"

  "No comment, of course."

  "Good girl. If Tom Winters
ever shows up, I'll call them back and confirm the–" Before I could finish my sentence the door opened and Tom Winters appeared.

  "Tom, hello," I said.

  "Hi, I'm sorry I didn't call and make an appointment but it was getting late so I just took a chance on finding you in."

  "No problem, come on in," I said. "This is my secretary, Jodie Marshall."

  "Nice to meet you," Jodie said.

  "Go on in my office and sit down. Would you like a cold drink, or maybe something more substantial?"

  "Yeah, I could use a bourbon, actually," Tom said.

  "I bet you could."

  I turned to Jodie. She nodded. I said, “How do you like yours, Tom?"

  "On the rocks."

  "Jodie, you know how I like mine."

  She smiled. "Of course, I'll be right back."

  "Well, I've got your money," Tom said. "I didn't have time to get a cashier's check. I hope just a company check will be okay."

  "Sure, no problem."

  Tom handed me the check and took a deep breath. "It wasn't easy getting this money. I had to dig pretty deep."

  He told me that he was deeply in debt and cash flow was a major problem. I guess he wanted me to feel sorry for him and take it easy on his bill. Unfortunately my financial situation was not such that I could afford to be so generous. I suddenly wished I had taken Snake's advice and gotten a larger retainer. Jodie came in with our drinks and set them in front of us.

  "I know, I'm sorry that we have to do it this way, but with Harry in the case I've got to do everything by the book. If it were–"

  "I understand."

  "Good. I met with him today," I said. ”We've mapped out a preliminary discovery strategy for handling the case. I've already talked to the investigating officer, Bernie Meadows, and the assistant DA assigned to the case, Howard Hudson."

  "Already? I didn’t figure you’d lift a finger until you had the retainer in hand."

  "You have to move quickly in a case like this where the real facts are cloudy. As time goes by memory’s fade and it gets more and more difficult to find the truth."

  "What's your first move?" Tom asked and then took a sip of his drink.

  "We've got to deal with your daughter's arrest and then her bond. Snake thinks we'll be able to get a bond set without too much trouble, but we don’t know how much it will be. You better start thinking about putting it up. Probably $50,000 or more."

  Tom turned kind of pale and shifted around in his seat. He looked at me and frowned.

  "I don't know if I can come up with that kind of money."

  "Well, you don't actually have to come up with cash. You just need a good bondsman. The premium is usually 10% or so of the actual amount of the bond. Of course, he'll want collateral."

  "When do think this will happen?"

  "Pretty quick, just as soon as her doctor releases her from the hospital. I’ve promised Hudson I’ll bring her straight in."

  "I'm going to see her tonight so I'll ask the doctor when that will be."

  "Okay, call me and tell me what you find out. If I'm not here talk to Jodie, okay?"

  "Sure."

  "Well all right then, Jodie has a legal service contract for you to sign when you leave. You can give her the check. Otherwise, I guess that's all our business today."

  Tom and I stood up and shook hands. He was smiling but it was forced. He was obviously worried, but I guess that was to be expected with a child on trial for murder.

  "Thank you, Mr. Turner, I'm so glad you're handling this case for me. If you need anything else, just let me know."

  "Okay, and you let me know what the doctor says."

  Tom left my office and was immediately intercepted by Jodie.

  "Oh Mr. Winters, I have your contract ready." Jodie escorted Tom over to her desk. He didn’t bother reading the contract, just fumbled in his coat pocket for a pen.

  "Okay, where do I sign?"

  "Look it over and then, if it's okay, sign it above your name at the bottom," she said as I had taught her. We always encouraged our clients to read everything they signed although few took our advice. Tom signed his name immediately. Jodie rolled her eyes when Tom looked away. When he looked at her, she smiled and took it from him.

  "Thank you. I’ll take the check now."

  Tom grimaced and then put his hand in his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a check. "Here you go."

  "Thank you," Jodie said, taking the check.

  After Tom left, I returned to my office and Jodie followed me inside.

  "I got the check and the contract," Jodie said.

  "Yeah, I saw that. Now I'll be able to pay you this month and keep a little food in the frig."

  "In a few more years you'll have teenagers, then you'll never have anything in the frig no matter how much money you make."

  "Please, don't remind me."

  "Oh. Snake called and said the DA agreed to a $50,000 bond for Sarah."

  "Really, that's a shock. Hudson told me he was going to oppose bond. I wonder how Snake convinced him to change his mind.

  "I don't know," Jodie said.

  "Well, that's good news, although I don't know if Tom Winters will think so," I said.

  "How come?"

  "I get the impression he's having to scrape the bottom of the barrel to finance this trial."

  "Well, not too many people could afford to fund a murder trial," Jodie said.

  "Not too many people have to, luckily."

  I was relieved that the DA had agreed to a $50,000 bond. Tom would have difficulty arranging even a bond of that modest amount. Had it been set at a hundred thousand or more Sarah would most likely have to rot in jail for the duration of her trial."

  "Well, it's after five so I think I'm going to call it a day," Jodie said. "Rod's taking me to dinner and a movie tonight."

  "Okay, have fun."

  After Jodie left, I sat down and gazed at the mass of files and papers that were spread all over my desk and credenza. I wondered how I was ever going to get home that night. I hated to just get up and leave such a mess because when I came to work the next morning the sight of it would depress me for the rest of the day. After a minute, I began sorting the day's work– discarding or filing the completed items, making a pile of the things that needed work and making notes on my calendar and tickler file.

  After about an hour my desk was clear. I felt much better so I started to pack up my briefcase to go home. I looked at my watch and saw that it was 7:18. Just as I was about to depart, the phone rang. It was my private line that I used for Rebekah and my most important clients."

  "Stan, I'm glad I caught you," Rebekah said.

  "Oh, hi babe."

  "Tom Winters just called here to tell you they are releasing Sarah Monday morning at 9:30."

  "So soon?” I glanced at my calendar to see what I had scheduled on Monday. "Oh shit, I've got a hearing in Denton, I hope I can find someone to handle it for me."

  "Sorry, honey."

  "Well, I knew this was going to happen, I just wish I'd got a little more notice."

  "Are you coming home tonight, or what?"

  "Yes, I was just about to leave, but I’d better call Tom back and give him the name and telephone number of our bondsman so he can arrange for Sarah's bond on Monday."

  "Well, hurry up and get home, I'm starving."

  On the way home I began to worry again about whether Sarah was telling the truth. A sick feeling overcame me as I realized for the first time that I might go to Hell for defending Sarah. What if it turned out she actually had killed her own flesh and blood? Would God forgive me for defending her? I thought He would, but it was an unsettling thought nonetheless.

  On Monday morning I went straight to Sherman from home. I arrived at the hospital at about 9:00 a.m. hoping to have a chance to talk to Sarah before she was released. As I walked down the corridor to her room, I noted a uniformed officer standing guard outside her door.

  "Good morning officer," I said
as I approached Sarah's room.

  "Good morning, sir."

  "I need to see Sarah Winters."

  "May I ask who you are?"

  "Stan Turner, her attorney."

  "Oh, yes. Lt. Meadows said you'd be coming. Do you have some ID?"

  "Sure," I said and then took out my wallet and showed the officer my State Bar of Texas credentials.

  "You're to take Miss Winters straight to the police station once she's discharged."

  "Yes, I will certainly do that."

  "Then I'm going to leave her in your custody."

  "That will be fine."

  The officer left and I went inside. Sarah was dressed and had all of her belongings packed up. She smiled when I walked in the room. Joyce was sitting in a chair staring out the window.

  "Hi, Mr. Turner," Sarah said.

  Joyce turned around and looked at me.

  "Good morning Sarah, Mrs. Winters," I replied.

  "I'm so glad you're here, I'm getting sick of this place," Sarah said.

  "We can go, but before we leave I need to explain what's going to happen."

  "Okay," Sarah said.

  "I'm taking you to the police station where they're going to book you. That means they are going to fingerprint you, take your picture, ask some questions and advise you of your rights. After they have finished all of that, we're going to see the judge. The assistant district attorney and I have already agreed on a bond of $50,000. The judge doesn't have to go along with our agreement but he usually does. I know $50,000 seems like a lot of money, but it's not a high bond for a murder indictment."

  "Will I have to go to jail?" Sarah asked.

  "It depends on whether your Dad is able to get a bondsman to put up the $50,000 bond or not. I feel certain he will. If he has arranged for the bond, then you may not have to go to jail. If you did have to go, it would only be for a few hours. If he can't get a bond, then you'll have to go to jail until he is able to post one."

  "Don't worry Sarah," Joyce said. "Jail isn't so bad. It’s just incredibly boring sitting around all day doing nothing. We'll bring you some books and magazines to read."

  "You don't you think Daddy will be able to put up the bond?" Sarah asked.

  "Well, that's a lot of money."

  "He doesn't have to come up with all of it, usually just 10 percent is sufficient if you can provide collateral."

  "Well, I don't know what collateral he could possibly use," Joyce said.

  I frowned at Joyce and then turned to Sarah and smiled.

  "I talked to your Dad on Friday and he said he thought he could get the bond, but we'll just have to wait and see."

   At that moment an orderly entered the room pushing an empty wheelchair.

  "Ms. Winters, are you ready to go?"

  "Yes, I think so."

  "If you'll take a seat, I'll escort you out of the hospital."

  Sarah walked over to the wheelchair and sat down. The orderly pushed her out of the room with Joyce and I close behind. He took her to admitting, we checked her out and left the hospital. As we were leaving, a half dozen reporters and a camera crew confronted us. I grabbed Sarah's arm and maneuvered her through the group of reporters without stopping. The reporters followed Sarah and I yelling out questions as they walked.

  "Ms. Winters, how do you feel about being indicted for the murder of your baby?" the first reporter asked.

  "She has no comment," I replied.

  "Mr. Turner, will your client plead innocent?" a second reporter asked.

  "That's our plan at this time," I said. "Ms. Winters is innocent and we plan to prove it."

  "If you didn't do it, Miss Winters, who do you think killed your baby?" a third reporter shouted.

  "We don't know the answer to that question, but we intend to find out," I replied.

  Finally we made it to my car. After Sarah got in, I looked back to see what had happened to Joyce who wasn’t with us. There was a crowd of reporters fifty yards behind us and I saw Joyce in the middle of it. She seemed to be enjoying the attention she was drawing. I got in and looked at Sarah.

  "Shall we wait for your stepmother?" I asked.

  "No, she's got her own car, let's go," Sarah replied.

  "I wonder what she's telling them," I said.

  "She's probably telling them how hard she tried to straighten out my sorry ass, but I was a hopeless case."

  "Oh, come on, she's not that bad, is she?"

  She snickered. "Worse than you could possibly imagine. You're lucky you don't have to live with her."

  "Do you two fight a lot?"

  "No, not really. I just try to stay clear of her as much as possible for Daddy's sake. I don't want to cause him any problems now that he’s finally got his life together."

  After hearing Tom’s confessions about the financial mess he was in, I wasn’t so sure how long his life would stay together. But I couldn’t share that feeling with Sarah. She had enough to worry about. I looked over at Joyce and saw that she was still talking excitedly to the reporters.

  "Well, I guess she'll catch up with us later.” I put the key in the ignition, started the engine and eased out of the parking lot. "Listen, Sarah, you've had a little time to think now. Can you remember anything yet about the night of the murder?"

  "No, sir. I still don't remember what happened. I've tried to remember, believe me, but there's nothing there."

  "That's too bad. It would sure help if you remembered something, anything."

  "I'm sorry."

  "What were you going to do after you delivered your baby?" I asked with a little annoyance and frustration in my voice. Sarah twisted in her seat nervously. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I've got to know, Sarah," I said. "You must have had a plan."

  "Okay, okay. Ricky had a guy, you know, a friend who was going to take the baby and make sure it went to a good family."

  "You were going to sell your child?"

  "No. No. I wasn't going to get any money. It was just going to be a very quiet adoption. Nobody would know about it except Ricky, Michelle and the lawyer."

  "Who was the lawyer?"

  "I don't know. Ricky handled that."

  "Why didn't you just get an abortion?"

  "I don't believe in abortions. I couldn't kill my child."

  "Is there anything else you're not telling me, Sarah? If there is anything you're holding back you need to let it out. I can't defend you unless I know the truth."

  Sarah glared at me. "I've told you everything I know! Don’t you believe me? What do you want me to do, make something up?!"

  Sarah’s sudden outburst surprised me. She had been very calm in our previous conversations. Perhaps the stress was getting to her. Now maybe I’d get the truth. "No! That's not what I want. I'm just trying to understand how you could deliver a baby and not remember anything. It just doesn't make any sense. Everybody's going to think you're a liar."

  Sarah wiped her eyes. "I don't remember anything. I'm not lying. It's the truth. I swear to God."

  "Well that's a real problem, Sarah. Unless you remember what happened, you may be spending the rest of your life in prison!"