“She had assets. She had an expectation or at least hopes that she was going to get some assets out of this case, and that’s not what she said in the application. So I don’t find her to be credible at all.
“I do find Mr. Goldman to be credible. I find him to be naïve and gullible.
“Mrs. Munson entered into the marriage, not for love, but for money. She was marrying Mr. Goldman for his money, and she was maintaining her boyfriend on the side the entire time, during their courtship, through the date of the wedding, the honeymoon and thereafter.
“Her cash income and cash deposits are suspicious. Whether she is a prostitute or not is irrelevant to this case.
“So I’ll find also that Mr. Goldman will keep one hundred percent of all his homes. Mrs. Munson added nothing to the marriage nor brought anything to purchase or maintain any home.
“The bank accounts. I didn’t find enough proof to show me that there was money in the accounts that was marital money, but even if there was, I will unequally distribute that back to Mr. Goldman under the same theory that I’m giving the houses back to him, that they were a hundred percent generated by him, and Mrs. Munson brought nothing to him under the equitable distribution theory.
“Mrs. Munson’s request for attorney’s fees. Each party will pay their own costs and attorney’s fees.
“All right. So you both will be single as soon as I sign off on the judgment.”
The judge banged his gavel, rose, and left the court.
That was it. A complete victory. Two years of living every day with the fear that someone was trying to steal half of everything I owned, was finally over. Actually, half didn't begin to tell the story of what Audrey could have done to me. Had she won half, that half could have been valued as of our divorce filing date, eighteen months prior to the trial. This was before my business failed and all its money was gone, and at a time when housing prices were thirty to fifty percent higher in California and Florida. Therefore, this “half” amount would have not only completely wiped me out, but also would have probably resulted in a legal judgment against me for hundreds of thousands of my future earnings. What a disaster that would have been for my present and Johnny's future.
Judge Andrews’ ruling confirmed the truth now apparent to everyone: the only thing that mattered to Audrey was her bank account. Audrey haughtily walked quietly out of the courtroom, with a look of disgust on her face, clearly feeling that there had been an obvious miscarriage of justice. Adam slapped my back and shook my hand in congratulations. I was still in shock when the court reporter came over and congratulated me. He told me that in all his twenty years, in all the divorce trials he had worked, he had never, ever, seen a judge give one spouse absolutely nothing. I just smiled, and kept thanking everyone over and over.
With a nudge from Adam, I stood up and walked out of the courthouse, feelings of relief and freedom washing over me. Audrey’s deception from the day we first met was now documented in the public record. Her next victim’s lawyer could bring it all out. Of course, Audrey’s profitable business would continue until one of the many agencies I’d contacted finally made a move. I looked up at the sky and made a silent wish that it might happen soon.
Arriving at our cars, I turned to Adam with my hand extended and my tongue tied. I couldn’t find the words.
“Adam, I’m not sure I can ever really say… ”
“Paul, you’re welcome,” he said with a knowing grin. “Now, go celebrate.” I nodded in appreciation before getting into my car and beginning the flurry of phone calls to friends and family. Johnny, my parents, Bob Thompson, and all my friends were instructed to meet me for a celebratory dinner.
All was now right with the universe.
* * *
Returning home later that evening, I looked back at an email I had written Audrey on August 2, 2009, one day after receiving her phone logs. I wrote:
More proof of your true character and what you were really doing during our marriage’: your calls to Royce. Calling him a half hour before we were married, calling him that night, on our wedding night, three calls around midnight, and many hundreds of calls during those few months we were together. What do you believe the judge will think about your true intentions towards me after seeing the list of these calls? And then, FLHC, Cocoa Beach, demanding my assets, and all your other lies and deceits, do you really believe he will financially break me just to reward you?
Thankfully, it had all come true, everything I had predicted to Audrey almost a year earlier. I continued to wonder why she would put me through a year of agony, instead of walking away then. At that point, I was ready to give her around forty thousand dollars, less than my estimated legal fees. She would have been free to find another mark, and would have kept her secret life secret. Instead, Audrey got nothing, and even had to pay me for the vandalism she did to the Sienna. She was exposed to the world as a con artist and prostitute. I believed and hoped that the FBI, FDLE and the local cops were investigating her and Royce. The obvious answer was that Audrey was a demented sociopath, believing that she was somehow above the laws of society, and humanity.
A lot of what Terri Lynn predicted came true as well. At our first reading, Terri said that Audrey would never settle, and would take the case all the way to court. Then, three months before I got the phone logs with their hundreds of calls to Royce, hotels, and different men, Terri implied that Audrey was a prostitute. During that first reading, when I asked Terri why Audrey wouldn’t settle, she said it was because “Audrey looked at it (the marriage) like whoring. She gave you sex, and so she deserved to be paid.” At the time, I thought Terri was making an analogy, so I didn't take those words literally. And finally, Terri was right about the outcome of my trial.
That night, I slept better than I had in a very long time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A Trial for Custody
May 8, 2010
The intensity on my son’s face was comparable to a surgeon’s in the middle of a lifesaving operation, quietly concentrated and careful in every movement, every breath. His eyes were fixed in a steady squint, his lips were tightly pursed, and his breathing was barely perceptible as his fingers gripped the Burnt Sienna crayon, careful not to let it stray from outside the lines of the smiling carrot. That morning, my father and step-mother had stopped by the house to drop off some coloring books devoted to good nutrition and also pretend they weren’t checking up on me.
A month had passed since I'd won my divorce trial and got the facts of Audrey's prostitution into the public record, and my life was beginning to return to normal. As before, my life revolved around Johnny and his school. I cherished this routine. My father, happy to find exactly that, gave me a longer goodbye hug than usual, which reminded me of the many hugs I’d been giving Johnny lately. It seemed that life was finally good again. While Johnny was working on this particular work of art, I decided to give Bob Thompson a call, because that day he was expecting the judge's ruling in his custody trial.
While waiting for Bob to answer, I thought back to all the crap Bob had gone through with Audrey. Her lawyer had spent two days questioning Dr. Templeton on her report, with the result that Bob's trial didn't finish in January as it was supposed to. So, they needed one more day, which the court allocated at the end of March. I remembered back to our conversation that night.
“So, how did it go?” I asked him.
“Oh, hey, Paul. Well, good and bad,” he said with a sigh. “My testimony in the morning went very well. So well, in fact, that at the lunch break, my attorney Mark suggested that we didn't need to have Miles, my private eye, testify, so we called him and told him not to come to the court. Mark felt that the judge was ready to rule in our favor, and that Audrey’s examination during the afternoon session would only seal the deal.”
“Was Mark right?” I asked, surprised they would dismiss such a key witness’ testimony on account of overconfidence.
“This was a big mistake. Miles was going to t
estify on Audrey’s prostitution. Up until then, no mention had been made in court of it. Audrey’s questioning went fine, the usual lying and denying everything on her part. But at the end of the day, when it was time for closing arguments, the judge did a strange thing. Instead of letting each lawyer present their closing statements, the judge had a ‘question and answer’ period with each lawyer.”
“A ‘question and answer’ period? That’s odd,” I said.
“No shit. When he asked Mark the question ‘Well, how is Tommy doing?’ Mark blew it. Instead of answering, ‘Not well, Your Honor, and here are ten reasons why,’ Mark said, ‘Tommy is okay now, but we feel he will become worse as he gets older.’ I even raised my hand when the judge asked that question and shouted out, ‘I can answer that question, Your Honor,’ but I was not allowed to speak.”
“Oh boy,” I said.
“Yeah. At the end, the judge said he would not rule ‘from the bench,’ which means then and there, but would give his ruling in the next five weeks. But, he also said that since he did not allow closing statements, if either lawyer had more to add, they could mail that information to him.”
“That’s so strange. How does your lawyer think the judge will rule?
“He's not sure. But, I’m writing the judge a letter right now going over all the evidence and the many reasons why I should be given sole custody. The thought of Tommy spending any more time with her… ” Bob's voice trailed off as his mind began to imagine what that might mean for his son.
“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “The judge will rule in your favor. I know he will.”
“I hope so,” Bob said. I could hear the regret in his voice. Bob realized that by overruling Mark’s decision not to call Miles, he may have lost some serious footing in the trial.
Bob did write a long letter to the judge and his lawyer, Mark, added more legal jargon to it, and they sent it to the judge. Luckily, the judge didn't get around to writing his opinion by my April 5th trial date, and so Mark quickly got the transcript of my judge’s findings, especially the part where he found Audrey to be a non-credible witness, and sent it to the judge as a follow-up to their prior letter.
Bob's “hello” brought me back from my reminiscing. “Hi Bob. Did you get the judge's ruling today?” I asked.
“Yes, and he gave me sole custody,” he answered.
“Thank God. I'm very happy for you, and for Tommy.”
“Thanks. Let me read you the judge's order.”
And so, Bob began to read me the order. With shocking clarity and accuracy, the judge not only understood exactly who Audrey was, but what she was. Among the more damning conclusions:
Audrey’s refusal to communicate with Bob shows that she continues to put her own needs before her son’s and, therefore, has no true respect for or understanding of shared parental responsibility.
Audrey’s “history of deceit and fraudulent activity, instability of residence, and the child’s possible inappropriate exposure to strangers and promiscuous adult behavior” compelled the social investigator to recommend no overnight stays and supervised visitation when Audrey was with Tommy.
The court shares Dr. Templeton, the social investigator’s, view that Audrey is “nothing less than a pathological liar.”
Audrey’s revolving door of relationships not only made for an unstable home for Tommy, but the evidence showing that she left those relationships “amid credible allegations of theft and extortion,” further attested to her inability to properly care for Tommy.
More shocking than all of these findings, however, was the fact that the judge would still allow Tommy to have unsupervised and overnight visits with a pathological liar, a criminal, and a prostitute. This was even more upsetting to Bob because of Tommy's telling him about being kept awake all night by the two men playing with mommy in the next room.
“Can you explain to me how the judge could write this and yet continue to allow overnights and unsupervised visitation?” Bob asked me after he finished reading the entire ruling.
“I can’t understand it. He agreed with Dr. T’s analysis, yet didn’t adopt her conclusions. Unbelievable, but at least you got sole custody.”
“We’ll see if losing two cases now makes Audrey change her behavior,” Bob said. “But, I doubt it, because it’s pretty clear she's a sociopath. She’ll blame her lawyer for the losses, and continue to do anything she wants.”
“Probably,” I said. “But if she doesn’t abide by the order, you can document that and maybe go back to the judge in six months or so.”
“Yeah, that’s what my lawyer says, give it six months.”
“Good luck to us all, Bob. I have a feeling we haven’t heard the last of her yet,” I predicted.
And it wasn’t.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The End
The unforgiving fluorescent lights illuminating the gray walls and the sea of drawn and tired faces did little to dampen my own mood. Standing in line at the West Palm Beach County courthouse on a Friday afternoon might not seem like an enjoyable way to spend some time to most people, but, at that moment, there were few places I’d rather have been.
After months and months of arduous work and worry, after having to stand before a judge and plead my case, and after finally finding happiness in a typical day, I was about to receive a certified copy of my divorce. As I stood in line, I thought back to all that had happened since my divorce trial.
Adam Nettles’ final task as my lawyer was to draw up what they call the “Final Order of Dissolution of Marriage,” which would encompass all of Judge Andrews’s findings. As soon as Adam drew it up, he faxed it to Audrey’s lawyer for his comments, any changes he wanted to make, and ultimate approval. He gave Walton a week to respond. After not hearing from him in that time, Adam faxed him a memo, and gave him a few more days. If no answer, Adam wrote, he was simply going to send it in “as is” to the judge for his signature. By Monday, May 19th, Walton still hadn't responded, so Adam mailed the order to the court.
The following Friday, I called Adam, and his secretary told me they had received a signed copy of the Final Order back from Judge Andrews, and therefore, I was officially divorced. Within minutes, I was in my car and on my way to the West Palm Beach courthouse to get a certified copy.
“Next,” the woman behind the glass barked.
“Good afternoon. My name is Paul Goldman and I’m here to obtain a certified copy of my divorce certificate,” I said, practically singing as I spoke.
“Case number?” the woman asked, her eyes still fixed on her computer. I handed over the case number obligingly, at which point she rose from her desk at “government employee speed” and went to fetch my file. She came back a few minutes later with my file, but said the final order wasn't inside.
“Let me take a look at it,” I said. “I know the judge signed it two days ago.” I flipped through the pages to see if she had somehow missed it. “You're right,” I said. “It’s not here in the file. Where do you think it is?”
“I’ll check around the office,” the clerk said, disappearing once again to the file room off to the side. Annoyed that my celebration had been delayed, I sighed and looked around the banal, depressing office. The walls were as gray as the clerks’ dispositions and the atmosphere was at once stifling and stale.
Then, I saw it.
A glimpse of a red rose caught my eye. Intrigued, I stepped out of line to get a better look. Sure enough, there in the back of a small, darkened room off to the side stood the flowered archway where Audrey and I had been married less than three years before.
I had been so hopeful, so full of love, and so ready to overlook all the little signs that suggested maybe marrying Audrey wasn’t the best idea. We had said our vows, Johnny had held the rings, and I thought we'd started the family I’d always dreamed of. Now, less than three years later, I was back in the same office confirming the end at the very place it had all begun.
Interrupting my reflection, the
clerk returned with the final order.
“Thank you,” I said, relieved that she'd found it. I looked down at the document, took a deep breath, and walked away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The First Arrest
May 27, 2010
I saw from the Caller ID that it was Bob Thompson. “Did you hear the news?” he asked.
“No, what news?” I replied.
“Audrey was arrested about a half hour ago.”
I almost dropped the phone. “No!” I said in joyous disbelief. “What did they get her on? Prostitution? Fraud?
“Neither,” Bob answered. “Joe Munson got a call from the police telling him he needed to pick up his kids from school. When Joe asked why, the police officer told him Audrey was under arrest and would be spending the night in jail. I just got off the phone with him and the belief is she was arrested for assaulting you at the grocery store last March. I recall you mentioned the incident to me, but I don't remember what happened.”
“Yeah. Johnny and I were in the Shop ‘N Go, and, when we turned into aisle fifteen, Audrey was standing right in front of us. Before I could say a word, she took two steps toward me, and hit me in the chest with her purse. A box boy witnessed the entire episode. I turned and walked away, drove to the Jupiter police station which was up the street, and made a report. Well, I wish she'd been arrested for prostitution, but hell, something's better than nothing.”
“Paul, if you go to the police website, and do a search under her name, you can see her booking report and mug shot.”
“Really? I will. And I'll bet you that mug shot will be the first of many.”
“I hope so, Paul. I hope so,” said Bob, and hung up the phone.
I immediately phoned Sue Anne Norton of the FDLE. I told her what happened, then asked if she would update me on Audrey's Welfare fraud case. “Our case is almost complete,” Sue Anne said, “but we still have several subpoenas outstanding at the banks and brokerage accounts you told me she might have. If we find any of Audrey’s hidden assets, we’ll add those to the ones we already know of, and we’ll be ready to file criminal charges.”
Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit Page 29