“Hey,” Lana broke into my thoughts. “I’ve been wondering, whatever happened to Levine and Pearlman?” she asked.
It took me a second to get back to the moment. “Oh. Howard pleaded insanity. In view of his confession, the D.A. decided to forgo a trial and accept the plea. Howard will be a guest of the state hospital for a long, long time.”
“And Pearlman?”
“The only thing that happened to him was he was removed from the Ethics Committee because of his conflict of interest. But his wife and the whole Harbourside group are being investigated by the Securities and Exchange Commission for selling those bogus EternaLife futures.
“As for my slip on the nitrogen vat, he claimed it was an accident. It was his word against Barnes’s, so it couldn’t go anywhere. And as for the bribes, no one can prove that’s what they were. After all, it was Howard who claimed that, and then he claimed insanity. So there’s no way to show they’re anything but charitable donations. And even if it could be proven they were bribes, Pearlman didn’t bribe elected officials, only appointed committee members. That’s not a crime. It’s the good old American way—lobbying. The worst that could be said is that the Ethics Committee members were unregistered lobbyists. But they’re dead, anyway.”
“And what about Hollings and the Loyal Brotherhood of Assholes?” Lana asked.
“Still preaching their gospel of hatred, practicing their First Amendment rights. Morse was found guilty of painting that swastika on the Temple Beth Boca. He might do a few months for the swastika incident, but that’s it.”
“Wow,” Lana said.
I sat there, and she floated there, both of us contemplating the vicissitudes of justice and injustice, morality and immorality, life and death.
“You know what, Lana?” I finally asked.
“What?”
“There’s something I’ve learned from all this. Hollings was right about one thing.”
“Huh?” she asked incredulously.
“He said we’re all sinners. And he was right. Even the Reverend Botay, as wonderful as she was, wasn’t a saint. She succumbed to Pearlman’s proposal. She sold her vote on the Ethics Committee in exchange for his donation to her battered women’s program. I guess she figured she was serving the greater good. So where do we draw the line? Are there good sins and bad sins? Justifiable and unjustifiable? Forgivable and unforgivable?”
We sat and floated in silence again.
“I don’t know,” Lana finally said, echoing my own thoughts. “All we can do is move forward, continuing our crusade for truth and justice, elusive though they may be at times.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Our crusade?”
“Yeah. You and me, sister. Together. Forever.”
We locked eyes.
“Yeah,” I said. “Together. Love ya, sis.”
“Right back atcha,” she said and floated off into the sunset.
(Please continue reading for more about Miriam Auerbach)
Acknowledgments
Once again, thank you to Paige Wheeler of Folio Literary Management; Pat Van Wie, Deborah Smith, Debra Dixon, Brittany Shirley, and Danielle Childers of BelleBooks/Bell Bridge Books; and especially my husband, David Rafaidus.
About Miriam Auerbach
Miriam Auerbach is the author of the satirical mystery series set in Boca Raton, Florida and featuring Harley-riding, wisecracking female private eye Harriet Horowitz. Her debut novel, Dirty Harriet, won the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best First Series Romance. Miriam can only assume that this is because the heroine kills her husband on page one. In a parallel universe, Miriam is known as Miriam Potocky, Ph.D., professor of social work at Florida International University in Miami. She lives in South Florida with her husband and their multicultural canines, a Welsh Corgi and a Brussels Griffon. Visit Miriam at:
www.miriamauerbach.com
or
www.facebook.com/AuthorMiriamAuerbach
Dirty Harriet Rides Again Page 15