Love you, Audrey
From Audrey to her aunt, successfully scamming her out of $25,000 to pay her legal fees; December 10, 2007.
I now know what an addict who is trying to kick the habit feels like:
Go to bed every night “crying for the drug”…
Wake up every morning “crying for the drug”…
Take a nap during the day “crying for the drug”…
Drive your car “crying for the drug”…
Spend every waking part of the day “crying for the drug”…
Wishing that the drug would finally leave her system…
Hoping that one day she might finally not “cry for the drug”…
Knowing that “the drug” is NOT CAPABLE of being FAITHFUL,
She prays she doesn’t have to spend another day on this planet without “her drug.”
I can only hope that you are as much IN LOVE with whoever you’re with as I am with you!
Please don’t make contact with me ever again unless you think you can honestly say you need me, want me, and love me as much as I do you. Otherwise, help me stay on “this wagon.” It hurts so bad & I just want the pain to end. I only hope this pain doesn’t last a lifetime because I can’t take it & will eventually have to end my pain one way or another.
To Royce, December 15, 2007.
Have “we” made the right decision… to no longer pursue a “relationship?” It has been over 2 years now of lots of love & lots of pain…
From my view, our relationship is related to the one that you & your mother had… one of unconditional love… no matter how painful. I have dealt with all the “crap” that you offer just like you did during your mother’s Alzheimer’s period. You had constant battles of good days & bad… just like I have had with you. Some days the words that came out of her mouth were so hurtful & other days so kind… just like yours… often so disrespectful that others would make comments.
Some days the things she did were so difficult to deal with yet you kept on… just like I have had to do (whether it was dealing with your physical, mental, or verbal cheating & so forth).
The sole reason… UNCONDITIONAL LOVE. That is what I have had for you… that is the excuse that I gave myself to keep on with our relationship… I felt such unconditional love towards you that no matter how hurtful your words & no matter how disrespectful your actions, I kept on loving you.
But, now I wonder if it is truly the time to give up on you… the words of your own family member, your own friends, your own past lovers… ringing in my ears, saying he is NOT capable of a lasting, loving relationship. Well I have held out hope for over 4 years & now wonder if they are true… if you are truly “unlovable.” Are you really NOT capable of a lasting, loving relationship?
Are you really so damaged that you can’t EVER function as a “couple” in this world? I know you tell me over & over that people can’t change but others say people change if they really want to. Don’t you want to? Aren’t you tired of your miserable past? Can you make some HUGE changes this year?
All I know is that I do love you (& REALLY wished I didn’t) & believe you do love me (as best you can love anyone else besides yourself)… but, I prefer to NEVER ride “our” emotional roller-coaster again. This would mean lots of communication to make solid commitments to our relationship. I’m sure the idea of any of this makes you run for cover because you are SO full of fear & lacking of trust.
To Royce, December 31, 2007: That infamous New Years Eve.
BTW, we had the perfect relationship… OUR only problem was your actions… thus, MY only problem was that I REACTED. You caused all these infidelity problems which led to my outrageous reactions. Any person will tell you that outrageous reactions are “within norm” for such infidelity discoveries.
Looking back I realize that the old saying “once a cheater, always a cheater” certainly is valid. I gave you all kinds of excuses because our relationship is a GIFT, a once in a lifetime connection but this gift is not worthy of my heart any more. I’ve tried to explain this to you but for some reason you think that I will fall back into that unconditional love-sick person again. I REFUSE to. I was ALWAYS so good to you… you had no right to treat me & talk to me the way you did for so many years.
I won’t tolerate that type of degradation EVER again. That being said, I do still enjoy your company & conversations as a friend (& friend only). My love for you is no longer felt as my partner in life… But, I still would enjoy TV watching, sleeping/snuggling, riding the bike, etc… all the things we used to do but without the LOVE… just friendship. Or not… doesn’t really take too much of my heart or head any more.
To Royce, January 13, 2008: While we were still happily married.
When you return… You’ll find me in the process of being:
120 pounds of totally toned (legs/stomach) & tanned, 100% of a loving and compassionate mother / daughter / partner / friend who chooses to be completely complaint free, honest and enjoys sharing healthy comfort cooking. I shall prove that “we” CAN change (if “we” WANT).
I beg you to return “in the process of making” these much needed “similar” changes. We were put together for good reasons.
We ARE soul mates … an unexplainable special gift!
I’m NOT going to let you RUN any more.
It’s our destiny to be together “‘til death do us part.” Please help me make our journey a peaceful, free life together.
February 5, 2008: Still happily married (or so I thought).
After an hour or so of reading email after email, I read the last message and turned off the computer. My eyes were tired, my back hurt, and the weight of a burdening reality would not let me stand from my seat. It struck me that Royce treated Audrey exactly as Audrey treated me. He kept her at a distance. I saw no love emails from Royce to Audrey. Audrey begged Royce the same way I begged Audrey to keep our marriage together. Her willingness to excuse all and put up with anything also had been like me. And it became clear to me that Royce was using her for the money she made him just as Audrey had used me. I got a kind of cold satisfaction realizing that Audrey's love for Royce was intense, emotional, complete... and completely unrequited. He was using her simply to pad his bank account, and for recreational sex, when she came up in the rotation of Royce's “other girls.”
I wanted to burn these emails. Instead, I read them again, and emotionally used them to fuel my determination. The words of Winston Churchill echoed in my ears. “Never give up. Never quit,” he said, when things looked the darkest. I felt he was talking to me. I would not rest until Audrey and her associates were brought to justice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A Question of Custody
January 28 – 30, 2010
I was sitting quietly in the cold courtroom, my eyes tracing the lines of the mahogany bench standing at the forefront of the room, commanding respect and imposing authority. The judge had yet to enter, but the room was abuzz with various people bustling in and out through the heavy double doors. There were complainants waiting to air their grievances, there were the indicted considering every possible approach, there were attorneys sizing each other up while also attempting to appear indifferent, and then there was me. I was there to make sure Audrey got her just desserts, and though our own divorce trial was still months away, I had come in support of Bob and his attempt to secure full custody of Tommy.
My eyes moved from the outline of the bench to the outline of Bob’s head. Seated just a few feet away with his attorney, I watched him slowly nod in agreement while his lawyer whispered in his ear. His hair was thinning and gray, his ears were small and symmetrical, and his neck appeared to be bursting out of his collar, tightly secured with a conservative blue tie. I wondered if Bob and I would ever have become acquaintances were it not for Audrey. We were both hardworking, honest men who loved their sons. We were also two men who had loved Audrey, and two men who had made a horrible decision in marrying her.
At tha
t moment the large double doors swung open and in stormed Audrey with an annoyed expression on her face and her equally annoyed lawyer, determined to keep up with her. I stared at her as they maneuvered into the front seats, and I watched with disgust while she adjusted her dress and smoothed her hair in hurried preparation. The sound of the bailiff declaring, “All rise!” diverted my attention back to the front of the courtroom where Judge Richard L. Wilkerson sauntered in and took his position behind the bench.
The trial was scheduled for three days. Audrey had no witnesses. Bob had many. Among the more important was Dr. Templeton, a court-ordered social investigator and psychologist. Her report, already filed with the court, diagnosed Audrey as a sociopath, a habitual liar, and an unfit mother who was incapable of co-parenting. According to Dr. Templeton, Audrey was harmful to the emotional well-being of her children and she was prepared to state exactly that on the first day of the trial. Dr. Templeton’s testimony would be the most important, and the most damning for Audrey.
For the second day, I was scheduled to testify about Audrey’s inability to care for Tommy based on what I saw firsthand during our courtship and marriage. In addition, the judge would also hear testimony from Miles, Bob’s private investigator, Joe Munson, Audrey’s first husband, and three ex-boyfriends. Each of the boyfriend's stories were similar. After only a brief acquaintance, sometimes as little as one week, they would make the fateful decision to allow Audrey to move in with them. In each case, after getting to know her, usually within a month, she was asked to leave. She would indeed go, but on her way out of their house, would steal anything that wasn't nailed down, and then try to defraud them by asking for money to abort the imaginary fetus of her fake pregnancy.
On the third day, the judge would hear from both Audrey and Bob.
Unfortunately, the testimonies did not unfold as scheduled. Dr. Templeton’s testimony took two full days, during which she recommended that Bob be given sole custody, Audrey’s visitations be supervised, and, due to her promiscuous lifestyle, Audrey not be allowed to have Tommy overnight. Dr. Templeton also testified that this was the first time in her entire career that she made such strong recommendations.
By the time Peter Walton got set to cross examine her, I was sure he’d want to dismiss her and her analysis as quickly as possible. He did the opposite. Walton forced Dr. Templeton to explain her report line by line in an increasingly obvious attempt to drag out her testimony. This resulted in only one day left for witnesses, instead of the expected two.
So, the third day saw the testimonies of the ex-boyfriends and their individual accounts of deception by Audrey, and Bob’s testimony, which came at the end of the day. There was no time left for Joe, Miles, or me. I was disappointed. I had plenty to tell the court, including the incredible story of how Audrey, on those rare nights all three of her children were with us, made Tommy sleep on the laundry room floor instead of his bed, with only a towel for a blanket. When I asked her about this, Audrey would simply shrug and reply, “Oh, he likes it there.” Sure.
The case was delayed until the court had a free day. Forcing the delay was exactly Audrey’s lawyer’s intention, and he claimed to be busy on any open day the judge found on his calendar.
In the end, the trial would not be resumed until April 28, three months later. This meant three more months of child support paid by Bob, three more months of arguing with Audrey, and three more months of Tommy’s risky exposure to his mother. Bob was livid, while Audrey was seen laughing with her lawyer shortly thereafter.
A few days after the trial, I returned to the Jupiter Police Department where Agent Hunter had given me so much hope. He had told me about Audrey’s association with a known drug dealer, about Audrey’s rap sheet, and then he informed my lawyer they didn't have the resources to pursue the investigation. I returned to the police department to request a copy of Agent Hunter’s file with Audrey’s rap sheet included, but I ended up with a lot more.
Entering the lobby, I approached a very young and distracted receptionist and asked if I could speak with Agent Hunter. When told that he wasn't there, I asked to speak with his boss, or whoever was in charge of the VICE department. She then directed me to a red phone hanging on a nearby wall, which I picked up.
“Sergeant Callahan, may I help you?” the serious voice asked.
“I hope so. Are you the head of the VICE department?”
“Yes,” he answered gruffly as images of a perpetually frowning man formed in my head.
“My name is Paul Goldman and I’m the complainant in the Audrey Munson prostitution ring case and, since that case is now closed, I was wondering if you could give me a copy of the file.”
“What closed case?” the sergeant asked, his seriousness now sounding more like anger. “That investigation is ongoing.”
“Really?” I said, elated by the unexpected news.
“Yes.”
“Well, in that case, can you tell me what’s going on?” I asked, excited to know that a door I had thought was closed was still open.
“No,” he said flatly. “I can’t give you any particulars. Our procedure is to update the complainant, you, every thirty days.”
“I see. But Agent Hunter hasn’t done that,” I said.
“Well, I’m doing it now. I’m telling you the case is ongoing.” Sergeant Callahan couldn't have been less forthcoming or cordial, but my excitement over learning that the case was still open prevented his gruff manner from dampening my spirits.
“Sergeant, can I call you every thirty days, if I continue not to hear from Agent Hunter?” I asked.
“You can,” Sergeant Callahan responded with a sigh, “but I’m expecting a resolution within thirty days.” Given the simplicity of his statement, I took a moment to process exactly what he had just said. Was he really saying that he had enough on Audrey to arrest her in a matter of weeks? They had been investigating for the last six months, so that made sense to me.
“Thank you, Sergeant. Thank you so much. I know you can’t tell me particulars, but you've actually told me a great deal.” I triumphantly hung up the phone and left the station completely transformed. Practically skipping down the front steps, certain that “resolution” had to mean “arrests,” I let myself imagine how they might go about bringing Audrey and Royce in, what their mug shots would look like, and how I would finally celebrate her undoing.
Once again, the roller coaster took a nose dive. Two weeks later, Agent Hunter sent me the following email:
Due to a lack of investigative evidence regarding crimes occurring within our jurisdiction, we are closing the case. Please feel free to contact me if and when you have any information relevant to crimes occurring within the City of Jupiter.
After reading the email, I sat back and wondered how many times I had let my hope get the best of me. My investigation was as much a roller coaster ride as my marriage to Audrey. There were so many moments during the investigation when I was certain a breakthrough had occurred, only to learn that nobody was willing to commit the necessary resources, that nobody would connect the dots with the mountain of evidence I provided. Jupiter PD was simply the tail end of the parade of incompetents, or worse. I decided it was time to reevaluate my position and what I had really accomplished. Then the phone rang.
“Am I speaking with Paul Goldman?” the voice of an unfamiliar woman asked.
“This is Paul. Who's this?” I answered.
“This is Sue Anne Norton from the FDLE, the Florida Division of Law Enforcement. I was wondering if you could tell me about Audrey Munson.” Her breathing was heavy and I heard the sound of a car door shut. “I’m at her trailer now, have rung her doorbell twice, but she refuses to open the door. I know she’s home because her washing machine is on and the trailer park manager saw her five minutes ago. I’m leaving now, to go back to my office, so let’s talk while I’m driving.” Disbelieving the timing of the call and the new twist in this never-ending roller coaster, I sat back in my seat and began to once ag
ain relay my story.
Sue Ann was from the FDLE’s Welfare Fraud Division and she was investigating Audrey for fraudulently applying for and receiving welfare. Audrey had claimed she was indignant, owned no assets, and, although she disclosed the $400 monthly child support from Joe Munson, failed to disclose the $1,200 a month in child support income she received from Bob Thompson. When Bob’s lawyer discovered this, he personally contacted the Welfare people and brought them up to speed on Audrey’s actual earnings and known assets, which were her car, her trailer, and her fifty percent interest in the California townhome. Based on this, Sue Ann calculated that Audrey owed the Welfare Department $11,000.
After I corroborated everything Bob’s lawyer told her, I began to explain my prostitution evidence to Sue Ann.
“Actually, Paul, that’s not my department, since I’m in the Welfare division, but when I get back to the office, I’ll make some calls to our Corruption Department on your behalf.”
“Thanks, and one more thing. How big is FDLE? I mean, do you have a lot of resources?”
“We do. Think of us as the FBI, but only for Florida.” That was exactly what I wanted to hear.
“Great. Any chance I can meet with you and the FDLE guys tomorrow?”
“I’ll try to set it up,” was all she could commit, but I took it as a positive sign that the meeting would be on, so I immediately headed to Kinko’s to make copies of all my evidence for what seemed like the hundredth time. When I got home, there was a message from Sue Ann confirming an appointment with her and agents of the corruption department for the next day.
At 10 a.m. of the following morning, I drove to the FDLE’s offices in West Palm Beach. Entering the building, it occurred to me that I was beginning to lose track of all the agencies I’d visited and all the “authorities” I'd shared my story with. Though I had been a meticulous note taker throughout my investigation, keeping organized spreadsheets of everyone I had spoken to and what had been said, the images of this building and that sergeant were beginning to merge. The FDLE’s offices looked about the same as the rest.
Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit Page 24