In return for assisting Kagan in his law office, she received a modest wage and plenty of time to study. She had free access to Wi-Fi, his password to the Lexis legal research site, as well as his own dusty, but extensive law library. Occasionally, she would perform some investigative fieldwork for him. With all that going for her and a law career ahead, she knew a house and all that permanent possession crap could come later.
“Nice house,” Sandy stated honestly. She didn’t want to waste the day talking to Abby. She took the conversation back to their shared rehab experience, “Wasn’t it clever the way they called their prisoners, clients?”
“Everyone knew who you were,” Abby said. “You were famous around there. They’re no doubt still talking about you. You’re the one who kicked that counselor in the nuts when he tried to make you go down.”
“He never touched me after that. Of course, from then on they gave me every shit detail in the place. I kept telling myself that being on my knees cleaning up shit was more dignified than being on my knees in front of him. It was sexual assault the moment he unzipped.”
“Why didn’t you just go along to get along? That’s my philosophy. What’s the big deal? Do it and move on. If you’re such a goody two-shoes, why were you there in the first place?”
“Acting out at the mall, doing some stolen pills from Mom’s cabinet, nothing heavy, teen stuff. Mom freaked, called a teen hotline and the social services ball started rolling. Some sort of Save-The-Kids crusade was going on at the time, didn’t take much to end up in rehab. Mom put me there and then forgot to come get me out. Brother Raymond also knew I was there and never visited me either. He could have signed me out as well, but didn’t show up. Three extra miserable months he cost me.”
“Wow, really? Well, it’s all behind us now. Iced tea or something?”
Sandy nodded. “Not completely behind. I know where that former counselor now lives. The law firm I worked for in Philly had me out running around the Delaware Valley interviewing and researching legal stuff. When I was bored, waiting for some papers in some law office, I’d use my laptop to track the bastard’s whereabouts.”
“You talking about that tall sexy counselor from rehab? He was hot.”
“Geez Abby, he’s a sleazebag and a criminal. A sexual predator for God’s sake. He belongs behind bars for what he forced the girls to do. I’d love to nail him to the wall just for their sake.”
“I’d love to have him nail me to the mattress one more time. The guy was insatiable. I got more action in there than on the outside. Made the time fly by, plus I didn’t have to do any work.”
That settled the question of whether Abby felt the abuse had torn up her life. Her experience sounded like one of the high points. Sandy hadn’t been aware Abby had spent the duration there on her back. The other girls were required to perform therapy, which was what the counselors called never-ending cleanup duty and waiting on them. She and Abby may have been there at the same time, but clearly their memories differed. Another reason to question why she was even here talking to her. Yet, Sandy resisted judging her. Perhaps cooperating with the counselor had been Abby’s way of coping, her way of surviving. Sandy tried hard to find something to like about this woman.
“I’ve kept track of him, he moved to Delaware,” Sandy said. “I know exactly where he lives. When I pass the bar, I’m going after him—payback time. I’ve made that vow to myself for a girl named Gloria.”
“You’re one serious girl. Remind me never to cross you.”
“I’m not fanatical about it, but it’s there in the back of my mind. Sort of like on my permanent to-do list to get that bastard. So what can I do for you?”
“On second thought maybe you’re not the person to advise me. I’ll bet you never get your hands dirty.”
“Depends.”
“I’ll start at the beginning. Last year I found out my daughter was selling stuff on the Internet. Stuff she didn’t want like DVDs, an old CD player she never used, and a pair of new shoes she didn’t like. Other kids were doing it, she told me. I didn’t think much of it until I discovered she’d stolen one of my panties and sold it on the Internet.”
She said it nonchalantly at about the same grievance level as finding the milk left out all night. Sandy was unprepared for such a statement. She sat with her mouth open.
Abby noticed her reaction and nodded with a knowing smile. “Yeah, kids today, who knows what they’ll come up with.”
“How old did you say she is?”
“Ten.”
“Ten? She should be playing with dolls.” Sandy rolled her eyes. “Remind me to never have any. How on earth do you handle something like that? What’d you do?”
“Well, I was furious, of course. Told her she was grounded. No more computer, no more privileges...the usual. I swear the mothering never stops. You try to do everything you should as a mother, but sometimes it just isn’t enough.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me how much money she got. I was surprised. So I made a deal with her. I wouldn’t punish her if she’d show me how she did it.”
Sandy leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes tightly, hoping this woman would be gone when she reopened them. She thought about all of the more interesting ways she could waste time. Now annoyed and impatient, she said, “Abby, why am I here?”
“Well, it turns out panties are a hot item on the Internet, but there’s a downside. I think one of my customers is coming after me.
“Geez Abby, you must have expected some kinky reactions.”
“At first, I thought he was just cyberstalking me, you know, using the Internet. Now I think it’s escalated to physical stalking. I just feel he’s getting closer and I’m getting worried. Got a ten-year-old daughter, you know. I’ve had some weird phone calls, strange sounds outside. Don’t scold me, I know I’ve made a mess of things, but I can’t undo it all now.” She sneaked a look at Sandy wondering if she believed any of this shit. “What should I do?”
Sandy wished the daughter were far away from this house. “Most police departments aren’t up to speed on cyberstalking, but there’s usually someone in the department who can advise you about computer security, but....”
“But, I know the first thing they’re going to say is knock off the panty game. I’m a single mom, Sandy. I need that income and I can work at home. It’s perfect.”
“...I was going to say if you can give the police some evidence of physical stalking they do know how to handle that.”
“But sometimes they can’t do anything until it’s too late, right?”
“So take extra precautions, especially concerning your daughter. And you should think about some other work-at-home business. Have you thought about phone sex, you could call it Dial-A-Slut? You could sit and paint your toenails while talking dirty to men.” Sandy didn’t smile while she said it.
“Be sarcastic if you want. What I’m doing is legal and I don’t make the rules.” Abby wasn’t fazed. She was pleased. She knew Sandy was emotionally into it. Her mind raced back to that rehab counselor. A brilliant idea was taking shape—the piece that was missing from her scheme. Just send that old counselor Sandy mentioned some hot emails. He’ll definitely remember her. She was his favorite. Just hint at picking up where they left off. You should see me now, fella. Entice him to reply with his own raunchy emails. Abby knew how to do it so her emails couldn’t be traced.
Then when boyfriend Toby shows up, shoot him and claim she thought she was shooting the guy who sent the raunchy emails. We know he’s a dangerous predator, your Honor. You know Sandy Reid, just ask her, she’ll tell you. No question about it, he’s the same man who abused us when we were teenagers. Somehow, he traced me and sent those shocking emails. I can show them to you. I tell you, I turned blue when I read such words. When I heard a noise outside, I was terrified. But you say it wasn’t him? Then who was that prowler I shot? Toby Towalski? Never heard of him. I thought I shot that abuser from up North. I�
�m really sorry, but whoever it was shouldn’t have been prowling around outside my house.
Sandy was uncomfortable with this entire situation and not just because she didn’t approve of Abby’s laid-back morality. Selling panties on the Internet was legal and none of Sandy’s business anyway. Something else was going on around here. Something wasn’t right. Abby seemed insincere and not at all defensive. She knew very well how to handle a stalker. Why did she get Sandy there to tell her all this?
Abby was just snapping out of her deep thought. “What was that counselor’s name? I don’t remember.”
“Well, I’ll never forget...Bruce Banks.”
“Oh yeah, I remember, Bruce Banks. Now lives somewhere in Delaware you say?” Abby smiled to herself, now her plan was complete. She’d claim she shot the prowler because of her anxiety about the predator showing up on her doorstep. The police can check everything out with Sandy if they don’t believe her.
She was pleased with the frown on Sandy’s face. Sandy had bought her story, was now involved, and would back up parts of the story if asked.
The front door slammed and Abby said, “My daughter. We’re in the kitchen, Jamie!” The young girl didn’t respond and shuffled passed the kitchen door without pausing. “Jamie, come back here for a minute.”
Jamie plodded back in view and let her backpack fall unabated to the floor with a thud. Sandy looked at the young girl slouching in the kitchen doorway. She was slim and likely one of the tallest in her class. She wore a light sweater, tan shorts, and sandals. Her straight brown hair was long and the bangs were a cute match with her fancy glasses.
“This is Sandy, Jamie, say hello.”
Sandy spoke first, “Hi Jamie, I like your cool glasses.”
The young girl glared boldly at her and said harshly, “I’m totally thrilled.”
Her mother let it pass. “We knew each other as teenagers and Sandy dropped by to say hello. Wasn’t that nice?”
“Whatever. I suppose she’s going to...help you guys.”
Abby shot a nervous glance over at Sandy, “Jamie’s talking about panty biz, aren’t you honey?” The phone rang, Abby said she’d take it in the other room and left the kitchen.
When they were alone Jamie said, “I saw you drive past me. Is that your little red car?”
“Yes, do you like it?”
“Way cool. Is it like a real car...you know what I mean?”
“Yes, like a regular car only way cool. My pride and joy. Look, I don’t really know your mom very well. We met years ago but we’re not close friends. I live in Park Beach.” She lowered her voice, “I don’t know what’s actually going on with your mom, Jamie, but I don’t like it. I think you do know what’s going on and you don’t like it either. Do you have anyone to talk to about stuff that bothers you, maybe a grandmother?”
The girl just stood there, looking down.
“I’m not a lawyer yet but I know how to help young girls. That’s what I do...stuff like that.” That wasn’t what she did, but with this girl she’d be willing to start. “I realize you don’t know me, but I’d like to be your friend and help you.”
Jamie folded her arms across her chest and turned away.
That reaction did it. Sandy knew she’d hit on something. “Whatever your mother is up to is wrong and don’t give me panty junk because I think it’s more than that. I’d like to help you. Could we be friends?”
Jamie turned toward her and snapped, “Back off, lady.”
This girl at age ten was so much like herself at that age it frightened Sandy. She would bet the rebellion and distrust would be plainly evident in Jamie later as a teenager. She could see herself making the same smart-mouthed response if some stranger tried to invade her world. She understood this child. She was certain she could reach her. She knew she might not have another chance, might never be alone with this kid again.
No time. Abby could walk back in. Sandy was desperate. “Listen, I know you don’t trust adults, but I want the best for you. So lose the attitude, okay?”
Jamie burst out, “Excuse me?” And didn’t retreat one inch. Her scowl was about as fierce as any child could manage.
“Geez Jamie, I know you don’t like whatever is going on here. You have a problem and I can help you solve it without anyone getting hurt. You might even save your mom from getting in trouble. I suspect you’ve more sense than she does. I need your help.”
Jamie gave in slightly. “If you tell on my mom, then I’ll get put in a foster home, that’s where I’ll get put.”
Sandy felt a stab of despair, fearful of what that meant. But she had Jamie’s attention now and her response indicated some progress. She dreaded digging deeper, but was certain this girl knew something and didn’t know how to handle it. Abby would soon come back. Sandy opened her handbag quickly, wrote on a small piece of paper, and whispered, “Here’s my phone number sweetheart, phone me. I want to be your advocate. Do you know what that means?”
Jamie appeared puzzled.
“That means I always take your side. If you get in trouble for talking about something that’s wrong, then I’m with you. If I must choose between you and your mother, then I’m going to choose you.” She didn’t in fact know what was going on so just in case, she added, “Or if it’s between you and some man, then I’m with you. I’m always on your side. Get it?”
Jamie nodded her head cautiously, her eyes frozen on Sandy’s eyes.
Sandy heard Abby in the next room saying her phone goodbye. She hurried on, “Trust me, I know how to handle these situations. If you want everything to be cool, phone me and I’ll help you. All just between you and me. We’re two girls with a problem we must solve. Are you with me? Are we cool?”
Jamie stepped closer. Her scowl had faded. She looked up at Sandy with wide eyes. She staring intently as though processing every syllable as though hearing each word for the first time.
Abby rushed back into the kitchen and saw them together. Jamie stiffened noticeably. Abby stomped over between them and gave Sandy a hard look. “What’d you do to my daughter?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, I heard her yell, she looks stunned, and her face is red. Looks as though you just slapped her. What’s going on?”
Jamie crumpled the note in her fist to hide it. “She didn’t do anything, Mom.” Jamie swung around and hurried out of the kitchen.
Abby frowned at Sandy. “What’d she tell you? What did she tell you?”
Sandy tried to smile innocently.
“You’d better leave right now!”
Just then, Jamie leaned back into the room and asked, “What did you say your name was?”
Chapter Five
Five days later, Sandy sat beside Detective Pomar, from the county sheriff’s office, in the front seat of his unmarked Ford Crown Victoria. They had parked across the street and down two houses from Abby’s house.
It was dark and Pomar was looking through a night-vision scope. “Can’t see the back of the house from this angle, don’t dare move any closer.”
“Your first name is Mel?” she asked. “And you know my friend Detective Chip Goddard on the city police force?”
“Yeah, Goddard phoned and said if I followed your lead it would most likely pay off. I’m violating sheriff’s procedures right now sitting here doing an unauthorized stake in the middle of the night with a pretty coed in the front seat.”
“Let me try that weird thing.” She reached over. “How do I...hey, I can see in the dark, pretty tricky.”
“They’re all the rage with voyeurs. Okay, you got me here, now what the hell is going on?”
“A woman named Abby Olin lives in that house and a bad guy is going to show up and then...well, I don’t know, just expect the unexpected.”
“What I expect is to be put on suspension. Now tell me what this is all about.”
“Child porn, I think.”
That stopped him. “Oh Christ! That’s big time. I can’t do this. That’s special
stuff...special procedures. The county has a trained task force for that. They don’t allow me to take any action on my own. I’m not even supposed to be here. I’m dead. Where you getting the word on all this?”
“The ten-year-old daughter. She phoned me and said she overhears her mother and boyfriend, Toby, talking about all the money they’re making off kids and how they’re making kids pay off. She sees them pass money back and forth. And she knows her mother hides a shoebox full of money. Also, her mother started carrying a gun in her pocket in the house.”
“Come on, a ten year old can barely tie her shoelaces.”
“Not always. Pascal published a treatise on mathematics at age nine.”
“So, I’m doing this on the say so of a ten-year-old prodigy?”
“No, you’re doing it on my say so. I’m doing it on her say so. She may not be a prodigy, but she’s a serious piece of work.”
“And I’m sticking my neck out because...?”
“You’re right, Mel, it doesn’t sound like much evidence and admittedly I don’t know much more. Something sure as hell is going on over there. The mother’s the reckless type. For chrissake, she sells panties on the Internet.”
“That’s not porn and it’s not illegal.”
“I think it’s just a cover for the porn. The daughter is certain this Toby is coming over tonight. The girl is very bright. She’s certain something big is going to happen tonight. She saw her mother get out her gun this morning. And the mother told her to stay over at her friend’s house and not dare come home.”
“She one of the victims?”
She held up her crossed fingers. “Don’t think so. I asked her about that and she said no, but children don’t admit such things easily.”
The Price of Candy Page 3