Chapter 7
Longing for Love
Going through box after box of Bobby's accounting records wasn't my idea of excitement. I decided the first order of business was to identify all our common clients. Over the years I had referred a lot of business to Bobby. Many of my referrals had come and gone, but after careful scrutiny, I determined there were eleven active files. Of those, five had been at my party. One of them was Mohammed Barabi and another Oscar Valenti. The other three were Rob Parker, Tom Slater and Joanna Winburn.
Parker owned a printing company that miraculously had survived chapter 11. A year earlier he had called me after the Sheriff had seized all his assets and thrown him out on the street. He was an arrogant client who soon made me wish I had never met him. He was so rude and insolent that he pissed off everyone he met–making my job nearly impossible. I had brought Bobby in to do the financial reporting in the bankruptcy before I knew my client’s true nature. He gave Bobby equal grief and I felt bad that I had made the referral. Luckily, after about a year, the case was confirmed and my work for Parker was over. Bobby, on the other hand, continued to do Parker's accounting. I often wondered why Bobby hadn't quit, but it wasn't really any of my business so I never asked him.
Tom Slater was a commodities broker who had been sued by a customer who accused him of fraud and defalcation. He had retained me to defend him as he had no errors and omissions coverage when the alleged conversion took place. Slater professed to me his innocence and we hired Bobby to do an audit of the account. The case was pending when Bobby was killed.
Joanna Winburn was an exotic dancer who the IRS was after for failing to file tax returns. When she came to me, I told her I could only help her if she would get her tax returns filed. I hired Bobby to actually do the returns. We did it this way to preserve the attorney-client privilege in case the IRS brought criminal charges. If Joanna had hired Bobby herself, everything she told him would have been discoverable.
After several hours I was becoming convinced there was nothing in any of the records of any value. But then I started looking through Rob Parker’s tax returns. In handling his Chapter 11 I had become well acquainted with his finances. These tax returns didn’t make sense. There were assets being depreciated that had never been disclosed on his bankruptcy schedules.
Failing to disclose assets in a bankruptcy proceeding was a federal offense. Surely Bobby wouldn’t have been a party to such a thing. He must have discovered it eventually though. That could well be what he wanted to talk to me about the night he was murdered. He wanted me to tell him what to do.
After gathering up all of Rob Parker’s records, I left and went back to my office. Sarah was scheduled to come in at 2:00 p.m. and she was right on time. Jodie was on the phone with a client when she walked in so she motioned for her to sit down. When Jodie hung up, she smiled and said, "You must be Sarah?"
"Right."
"How are you feeling? I heard about the little incident at the jail. I can't believe they did that to you."
"I was pretty sick for a couple of days, but I'm feeling better now."
Hearing Jodie and Sarah talking, I came into the reception area. Sarah was wearing jeans, white sneakers and an ASU T-shirt. She looked like a different woman from what I had seen in the hospital. The swelling had left her face and her stomach had flattened considerably. But her eyes still revealed the agony of her life.
"God, you must have been terrified when they held you down and tried to suffocate you"
"I doubt Sarah wants to relive that experience," I said.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Jodie said.
"It's all right."
"Come on in Sarah, have a seat."
I pointed to my office and Sarah smiled at Jodie and then walked in and sat down. I went back to my desk and pulled out a tape recorder.
"I'm going to tape this if you don't mind. I hate to take notes."
"Sure."
"Well, have you remembered anything more about December third?"
"No, it's still a blank."
"Hmm. Well, . . . why don't you tell me about your childhood? I need to know everything about you from the day you were born to December 3, 1981."
"Why?"
"Because your freedom is at stake here. Before we're done, I want to know you better than you know yourself. Then maybe I can help salvage the rest of your life."
"Okay, where should I start?"
"At the beginning. Tell me about your childhood."
"All right,” she said, taking a deep breath. “My mother died when I was an infant. I don’t really remember her. My dad took to drinking after she died. He left me with his mother and disappeared. When he’d get sober enough to remember he had a daughter he’d come visit me. Of course, it usually was only for a few days and then he’d be gone. Before he left, he’d always say, “Someday, when I get my life together, I’m gonna come get you, and then we’ll be together always.”
“My grandmother took care of me until I was eight. We lived in a small house on 64th Avenue in Portland, Oregon. Unfortunately, grandmother was elderly and had a heart condition. Sometimes she would be too sick to take care of me so Uncle Joe and Aunt Martha would come get me and keep me for a while. If I couldn't stay with them, I would live with Uncle Bob and Aunt Thelma. Lucky for me we had a big family.”
“So did your daddy ever get his life together and come get you?” I asked.
"Yes, believe it or not, he did. It was on June 10, 1964 that I got a letter from Daddy asking me to come to Alaska to live with him and his wife."
"You remember the exact day?"
"Yes, and time too. It was 9:45 a.m. It was raining and I had just got home from school and I was drenched. I was on my way upstairs to change when Grandma yelled to me that there was a letter. I had never got a letter before so I was very excited but scared at the same time. I ran downstairs and took it from her. For a moment I just stared at it. I mouthed the words, Tom Winters, in the return address.
“Grandma couldn’t stand the suspense.” She said, ‘Open it child before I die of curiosity.’ Hands shaking, I carefully loosened the flap, removed the letter and began reading. My father was in Alaska. He had just been married and wanted me to come live with him. Joy overwhelmed me. I was so happy I ran outside in the pouring rain dancing and screaming with delight. You just don't know how wonderful it felt after all those lonely years thinking Daddy didn't care about me. Deep down inside there had always lingered a belief that he did love me and would some day come get me. When I got that letter the little seed of optimism that had nearly withered away inside me suddenly exploded. It was the happiest day of my life!
"Everybody was surprised to hear Daddy had gotten married but they were utterly shocked that he had sent for me. They had all written him off figuring it was only a matter of time before he’d be dead or locked away in prison. But they had been wrong, Daddy had finally settled down.
“The letter related how he and Agnus had built a small house on Douglas Island near Juneau. It originally had only one bedroom but they had added on an extra room and they wanted me to come live with them.”
"So, weren't you a little upset about leaving your grandmother? After all she had raised you most of your life.”
"I loved Grandma Winters and I was sad to leave her, but a girl should be with her father and I wanted so much to have a normal family. I didn't cry when I got on the plane. It was all too exciting. Perhaps it was selfish of me, but I think Grandma was actually glad to see me go. It was hard for her to take care of me at her age."
"So what happened when you got to Alaska?"
"It was foggy in Juneau when the plane landed. I remember looking out the window, hoping to get a glimpse of the city as we landed, but I couldn’t see a thing. As I got off the plane I looked around for Daddy but he wasn't there. As you know, Daddy is quite tall with dark blue eyes and a handsome face. Even though I hadn't seen him in several years I didn't expect to have any trouble rec
ognizing him. The lady from Alaska Airlines made me wait for him by the gate. I wanted to search the terminal in case he went to the wrong place, but the lady wouldn't let me. It had been a long flight and I was tired so after awhile I stretched out on a bench and fell asleep.
"While I was sleeping, I had a dream. I was playing hopscotch on the sidewalk in front of a big house in the city. I looked toward the house and my mother, my real mother, was sitting in a rocking chair knitting. There was a garden in front of the house and the sweet scent of yellow roses was in the air. As I was playing, a car drove up and parked in front of the house. The door opened and Daddy, dressed in a fine wool suit, jumped out and smiled at me. I dropped my chalk and ran over to him. He picked me up, swung me around and gave me a big hug. After he put me down, my mother walked down the walkway toward us. Mom and dad embraced and kissed passionately. I was the happiest child on earth. Then I was awakened by the sound of laughter.
"When I opened my eyes, my father was smiling down at me. He took my hand and pulled me up. I threw my arms around him.”
Second Chair, A Stan Turner Mystery, Vol.4 Page 8