The Price of Candy sr-2

by Rod Hoisington

  There are twenty judicial circuits in the State of Florida, each with its own individually elected state attorney. In their Judicial District, state prosecutors have tremendous control over life and liberty. Moran was one of the twenty. His jurisdiction covered Park Beach and the surrounding counties.

  No one liked to interact with Little Bonaparte. That’s what some called him behind his back. Not only for the physical similarities, baby faced, short, and stocky, but for his imperious personality as well. A tyrant with far too much power. He had a staff of well-qualified assistant state attorneys to prosecute cases, but Moran had a special reason for wanting to handle personally anything involving Sandra Reid. His political ambitions had been set back after his first encounter with her. He’d never forgive.

  ”Oh, you’re having coffee. May I go back and get mine?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She returned to the waiting room and retrieved the cup she had just poured. When she came back, “I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by. Why didn’t you make me wait in your outer office for a couple of hours so I’d be impressed with how important you are?”

  He leaned forward. “One day you’ll realize just how important I am.”

  Normally she’d take that statement as his usual banal banter. This time, however, she detected seriousness in his words that suggested he had something specific in mind.

  “I’m always open for a truce with you, Mr. Moran. Remember you started this. You initiated the hostilities by holding my brother without just cause to save your own sorry ass. Why don’t you do the people a favor and take early retirement before you humiliate yourself again?”

  No way to talk to a prosecuting state attorney she might face in a courtroom, but they had a history of yelling much worse at each other. In a way, they were picking up where they had left off four months ago. Tossing personal barbs at him was not advisable and not in her best interests. Foolhardy, although irresistible for her.

  She knew he was eager to come down on her with his considerable power. However, he had moved too hastily in the past when he had attempted to swat her brother down like an annoying bug. Since then he had become more cautious. He had learned Sandra Reid could bite back.

  Once before Moran had thought he had a helpless patsy. Her brother, Raymond, had just moved to the small ocean side town for a change of scenery, to get past his Philadelphia divorce, and start a new life. Subsequently, a seventy-year-old seductress in a thong bikini framed him for a local politician’s murder.

  The citizens of Park Beach were outraged this stranger had murdered a local politician. A rumor at the time had it he was a gunman for some Philadelphia mob. Raymond found himself in a hostile town. His solitary hope was his estranged sister.

  Since the town had already prejudged Raymond, Moran wasn’t going to let innocence stand in the way of a surefire conviction. The perfect case, he figured, to propel him to the U.S. Senate. However, he hadn’t figured on the deadly sister showing up. She had exposed his incompetence with embarrassing consequences for him. He wouldn’t underestimate her again. He’d wait for the ideal situation for pay back, the one sure kill to get her out of his life for good. Perhaps the file now on his desk was just the opportunity.

  He set his empty cup aside. “Still the flippant smartass, I see. Every minute you’re free to run around means another minute the decorum and tranquility of Park Beach is in jeopardy.” He shifted through some papers on his desk. “Now tell me about Abigail Olin. How do you know her?”

  She knew where the line was between the personal and the official. When he put on his state attorney hat, she’d bite her tongue and not deviate from the truth. Lying to a state attorney or a federal officer, even if not under oath, can land you in jail. You can be tricky, you can push the limits of ambiguity, but you’d better not lie.

  She told him about knowing Abby Olin from juvenile rehab as teenagers and receiving her phone call. Sandy avoided mentioning Bruce Banks or the offensive activities of the counselors and hoped he didn’t go there. She continued about Abby explaining her Internet panty business, and Jamie overhearing her mother and Toby talking about a porno operation. “In short, the woman is an oversexed screwball. You don’t have to believe me, just search her computer.”

  “Too bad Philadelphia didn’t keep the two of you locked in rehab. For your information, we searched the Olin house immediately after the shooting. We found nothing but some money in a shoe box.”

  “How much?” She knew he wouldn’t tell her.

  “God, you’re nosey. Why do you even ask such questions? It’s not your concern.”

  “And stuff on her computer, right?”

  “We were in the house legally because of the shooting. Had no reason to consider the computer. Later, after Detective Pomar told us about your porn story, we got the judge out of bed to implement a warrant covering the computer. He denied it, seeing no connection between her computer and shooting a prowler.”

  “You’re starting in with another major screw up. The computer is everything, Moran. Go back and get another warrant for the computer before you release Abby and she gets her deleting little fingers on it.”

  “Not on the say-so of some kid. You think I’m a complete idiot?”

  “Nobody’s perfect.”

  He continued looking down at the folder. “You told Pomar the daughter said it was porn. We asked Abigail Olin and she laughed that off. Her lawyer was just in here. She denies any activities with porn, child or otherwise.”

  “She didn’t confess to a crime. Imagine that. You just can’t trust anyone anymore.”

  “She says Jamie is a little liar always making up stories to cause trouble. She likely made up the story about her mother being involved with child porn.”

  “Jamie isn’t like that. You should talk to her.”

  “You don’t know about that kid but we do. County gave us an old police report. A year ago, she called 911 claiming she’d been locked in her room for days without food or water. Later, she admitted she was mad because her mother wouldn’t let her go to the movies, or something. The kid has a history. That mendacious child took you in.”

  “I can’t believe I figured her wrong.” Another argument occurred to her. “Jamie might have lied about the porn, but she was right about something going down last night.”

  He ignored her point. “In her statement, the mother says she shot that man thinking he was a prowler. In fact, she claims she’s been threatened by one....” Moran thumbed through his file. “...Bruce Banks. She said you’d back up her story that Banks has been threatening her. What do you say to that? Do you know about Banks?”

  Sandy cursed Abby under her breath. “I definitely will not back up such a story. Bruce Banks has nothing to do with this. She told me she thought someone was stalking her—that’s all. But I’ve no evidence of that. I’ve no knowledge of Banks threatening her. He’s old news. Someone we both knew up in Philly. Obviously, she just came up with Banks threatening her as a cover to shoot Toby.”

  “How do the two of you know Banks?”

  She was afraid that was coming. “He was a counselor at the rehab facility.” Did that sound innocent enough?

  “The two of you just happened to remember his name? I want to know about Banks.”

  “We were talking about our time in rehab. I don’t think she remembered his name until I blurted it out innocently.” Sandy didn’t want all this out there. “He routinely sexually abused some girls who were confined there?”

  “Did he sexually abuse you?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “It goes to motive. Did he?

  “He never touched me.” That was misleading. He hadn’t touched her, but it was sexual abuse the moment he unzipped and told her to get on her knees.

  “How about Abigail?”

  “You’ll have to ask her.”

  “No, I don’t have to ask her!” He raised his voice, “I’m asking you. What do you know and
what does she say?”

  “She told me she was abused. I’d be surprised if she wasn’t.”

  "So she might have been telling the truth. Banks might have been threatening her."

  “How would he even know her location after all these years?" She thought a minute about what she had just said. Then leaned forward. "Unless...she contacted him first to get his name thrown into her phony being-threatened story. Did you find any emails to or from Banks on her computer? Oh, that’s right, you never checked her computer. I forgot who I was dealing with.” She knew she had him on the defensive, but she'd better not press it. "I do know Abby thought she was shooting the Toby guy. I heard her yell his name before she shot him."

  He closed the file and set it aside. “Abigail Olin doesn’t know who she shot. No one other than you has mentioned a man named Toby. She doesn’t know any Toby and didn’t know for sure who was out there in the dark. But when the man started up her back porch, she shot him. All the facts seem to support her prowler story. We’re charging her with manslaughter and releasing her on her own recognizance this morning. If her story checks out, we’ll drop all charges against her.”

  “Have you tested her for drugs?” She was half joking.

  “Will you mind your own business? Miss Reid, we’re reviewing possible charges against you. I’d love to prove you somehow butted in and caused this entire dangerous situation to occur.”

  “You’re saying somehow I was the cause of a prowler shooting which you say was accidental? Make up your mind. Was it accidental or did I cause it? I’m telling you Abby knows the Toby guy she shot. So don’t just drop charges because she claims he’s a prowler. Geez, at least investigate whether or not she knows him.”

  He stood to signal the conversation was over.

  She continued, “They’re into something together. I don’t know why she wanted him dead. I believe she asked him to come over and use the back door so she could shoot him. She yelled his name as she fired. The daughter has seen him. He might even be Abby’s boyfriend. Can you shoot a boyfriend in this state and get away with it?”

  “You no doubt could, you’re the trickiest gal in town. Don’t worry. We’ll check it all out.”

  “Well, check it out before you let her loose. Hey, let’s ask the daughter. I’m supposed to pick her up this morning. She stayed overnight with her friend, Izzy.” Sandy took a small notebook from her handbag and punched in the number. Someone called Jamie to the phone. “Jamie, you all right?”

  “I’m okay. Where’s Mom. Can I go home now?

  “Toby, the man your mother shot, died. She says he was a prowler. She’ll be in jail for a few more hours.”

  “Mom killed him? Awesome. Isn’t that serious?”

  “It depends on why she did it. I’ll explain later. Got a question for you. Was Toby your mother’s boyfriend?”

  “I don’t know. They went out once. He was at the house several times.”

  “They went out together? Say that again, Jamie, louder.” She held her phone out so Moran could hear. “Thanks, Jamie. I’m coming over now to pick you up.”

  “You can’t. Izzy’s mother says I can’t go with you. It might be dangerous, or something. She said too much is going on. She won’t let anyone but my mother pick me up.”

  “Very smart of her, Jamie. I’ll come over there now and talk with her.”

  She clicked off, stared at the state attorney, and waited.

  Moran sat back down. “Okay. The kid’s no doubt lying again. We’ll look into it. I’m still letting her mother out while we investigate. What’s this Toby’s last name?”

  “You’re asking me his last name? I’ve no idea. You have the body. Why don’t you turn him over, take out his wallet, and look at his driver’s license? His name will be printed on the license just above his address.”

  Moran tried to ignore her, but his face was getting red. “There’s some confusion about his ID.”

  “Toby is quite likely a nickname. I suppose that could really confuse you.”

  “Take your wisecracking mouth out of my office!”

  She left the county courthouse and drove out to Izzy’s house. Her house was six blocks north of Jamie’s house. Jamie had said white with blue shutters. As Sandy stopped in the driveway, a young woman ran off the porch to meet her. “Are you Sandy? I’m Izzy’s mother. Jamie’s not here. Izzy said she just got on her bike and went looking for you. Why are you involved in this anyway? You’re butting in and causing trouble. Why don’t you leave Jamie alone?”

  Chapter Eight

  Sandy tried to shake off the sudden chill of learning that Jamie was missing. She backed out of the driveway at Izzy’s house and with tires screeching headed down the block to Abby’s house. Yellow police tape remained stretched around portions of the back porch area where the shooting had occurred. She ran to the front door and pounded. She was surprised when Abby opened it.

  “You’re out on bail already?”

  “Personal recognizance. No big deal shooting a prowler in this state.”

  “Is Jamie here?” Sandy shouted.

  “No,” Abby said, “and you couldn’t see her if she was. I just got here. Most likely she’s down at Izzy Palmer’s.”

  “She isn’t there. She took off on her bike!”

  “Oh, okay. So she’ll be home.” Abby started to close the door. “Will you get out of here? I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “But what about Jamie? We need to look for her.”

  “She’ll show up when she gets hungry enough or it gets dark enough.”

  “Are you sure? Has she done this before?”

  “Before? Hell, this is her life. I don’t know where she goes. She’s in her own little world.”

  “She shouldn’t be.” Sandy stifled the urge to shake the woman by the shoulders.

  “Butt out, Sandy. You’re absolutely screwing things up. Especially with all that corny porn shit.”

  “You’d have gotten away clean with killing Toby if I hadn’t been there.”

  “Looks like I have gotten away with it.” Then she frowned. “How’d you find out his name?”

  “You yelled it out just as you fired.” She remembered Jamie had also told her his name, but no sense in getting her in trouble. “You knew that wasn’t Bruce Banks out there.”

  “Might have been.” Abby smiled.

  “What do you mean might have been? Did you contact Banks after I told you where he lived? I think you just wanted emails from him to support your story of being stalked.”

  “Now, wouldn’t that have been clever of me?”

  “You were expecting Toby. You were ready with the gun. Why did you want him dead? Maybe I’m mistaken and it didn’t have anything to do with porn, but you two are involved in something”

  “It has nothing to do with nothing. Now get the hell out of here. My lawyer says State Attorney Moran is definitely buying the prowler bit. So get lost and stay away from Jamie.” She slammed the door.

  Sandy walked slowly back to her car. Jamie had mentioned child porn. Was she mistaken or did she lie to get her mother in trouble. Full of hostility for her mother, she might have lied. Sandy must not have connected with Jamie as well as she thought. Now she was in the middle of Abby’s personal squabble with Toby. And where was Jamie?

  She remembered Jamie had walked home from school that day when she first went to Abby’s house. She drove in circles around blocks and found the school. She drove around the playground several times. Angry one minute and worried the next. Looking for a tricky little ten-year-old on a bicycle. When found, would she yell at her or hug her?

  She expanded her search into the surrounding area. Driving slowing through neighborhoods, around blocks. Driving and looking. Now far from Jamie’s neighborhood. She pulled to the curb, leaned back against the head restraint, and closed her eyes thinking. Jamie might have thought that if she wasn’t permitted to go with Sandy, she’d leave Izzy’s house on her own and meet Sandy somewhere. After all, had
n’t she told Jamie to trust her? Izzy’s mother had it right; Sandy was butting in and causing trouble.

  She needed help. Help from Abby or help from Izzy as to where Jamie might go. Neither would likely talk with her. But they’d have to talk with the police, wouldn’t they? She found Detective Triney’s card, phoned, and explained the situation.

  “So, how long has the child been missing?”

  She checked her watch. “Over an hour.” As soon as she said it, she realized how ridiculous she sounded.

  “That long huh? And riding around on her bike as well? You know what I’m going to say.”

  “You’re right. I just thought you could force everyone to help me. I thought you could wave your hand and make everything right again. Thanks anyway.”

  She hung up, hit Dial #1, and explained it all to Chip.

  “You know I’m a city cop. I can’t mess with county stuff,” he said. “Look, I’m not off until late afternoon. I’ll call you then. Meanwhile, you calm down. If she’s still missing, I’ll go out there and try to stir up things.”

  He was right, she wasn’t thinking clearly. She was overreacting. The youngster had probably been riding around and was back home by now. If not, Sandy would tear down her door and choke that conniving Abby until she cooperated.

  Sandy headed back toward Abby’s house. She drove slowly. Just past the school, alongside an overgrown vacant lot, her eye caught on something shiny glinting in the sun, reflecting red. Something under a ficus hedge. She braked abruptly and stopped in the middle of the street. She jumped out leaving the car door swinging.

  Even before she ran up to it, she knew it was a girl’s bicycle thrown under the bushes. Her own words crashed back into her mind: Trust me Jamie, I know how to handle these things.

  Chapter Nine

  Sandy stepped carefully backwards away from the bicycle. She stood staring at it from the sidewalk while she phoned Triney again. “Now don’t give me any of that wait twenty-four hours crap. I found her abandoned bicycle in the bushes. I just phoned her mother and she cut me off short. So, then I phoned Izzy’s mother. She gave me a description of what Jamie was wearing and described Jamie’s bike perfectly. Blue with a bent basket and one handle grip missing, red reflectors front and back. That’s what I found, Triney. Someone has grabbed her. Isn’t that enough?”