“If I didn’t like it, I’d never do it. Pleasant dreams.”
Chapter Seven
The next day began officially for Sandy at the county courthouse, summoned there by State Attorney Lawrence Moran. She was fixing a cup from the coffee setup in the corner of his large outer office when they said she could go in.
The state attorney was at his desk sipping coffee. “You are a terrible way for me to start my morning.”
“You look exceptionally evil today,” she said. “Why don’t I come back next year?”
She didn’t know why she was there. But it was easy for her to imagine. He wanted to hassle her. He must have already seen the reports from Detective Triney on the shooting. Abby’s arraignment would proceed routinely and, in time, Moran’s assistant state attorneys would brief him. So why would the state attorney—the big boss himself—use his own time to interview a mere witness at this early stage? He must have something special on his mind.
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
